


Sally-Anne Perks and the Scarlet Sociopath

by Id (idX)



Series: Girl in Red [2]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Major Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2017-05-06
Packaged: 2018-08-30 14:30:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 134,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8536771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idX/pseuds/Id
Summary: With a monster lurking through the halls of Hogwarts, all Sally-Anne wants is to be the hero her friends need.  Only trouble is her own fears are in her way.





	1. Settling In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the girls begin to settle into life away from Hogwarts.

**Disclaimer:** The following is a non-profit, fan-based parody. _Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets_ is owned by J.K. Rowling and published by Scholastic, Bloomsbury, and Raincoast Books. Please support the official release. 

* * *

“Let me make sure I understand this,” Dan Granger said. “The large, three-headed dog in your school was guarding an ancient artifact that a power-hungry maniac tried to steal, but instead of the staff stopping him like they should have, our daughters, Rose, Ron, and Harry went in to stop him.” 

“Nearly getting themselves killed in the process,” Wilfred Perks added. 

“We still succeeded!” Rose exclaimed, beaming. 

“Rose, now’s not the time,” whispered Professor Dumbledore. 

They had all gathered in the Leaky Cauldron, where Professor Dumbledore had bought the adults all drinks. They were all seated around a table, with Hermione and Sally-Anne flanked by their respective parents. 

“Among other things,” Sarah Perks said. “There was a giant plant, a life-sized chess match, a dim… erm,” She turned to Sally-Anne. “What was that word again?” 

“Dimensional prison,” Sally-Anne said in a soft voice. 

“That,” Emma Granger said, picking up where the other woman left off. “Which was literally sucking the life out of the children, a room full of hostile keys, and a potentially lethal logic puzzle.” 

“Once again, I want to extend my sincerest apologies to all of you,” Professor Dumbledore said. “When Mr. Flamel asked me to keep the Stone safe, Hogwarts was the safest place of which I could think. I certainly never intended to put any students in harm’s way.” 

“Then why put the dog there?” Dan asked. 

“The point wasn’t to hide the Stone,” Rose answered simply. “It was bait.” 

“Why do you think that?” Professor Dumbledore asked the pale girl. 

“Because it’s the only explanation that makes sense,” Rose replied. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t have bothered with the other protections, you would’ve just hidden it in the Mirror of Erised and been done with it. You mentioned that the only way to get the Stone out of it was to want it, but not use it. That’s why I could get to it, but Quirrell couldn’t. There is _no_ way to fool the Mirror, so he’d have just been stuck there until you arrived.” 

“Bait?” Wilfred said. 

“It was the only thing that could draw Voldemort out of hiding,” Rose said. “Even though he got away, we now know that he isn’t really dead like everyone thinks he is. He’s just a spirit right now, but I’m sure he’s already got a plan to fix that.” 

“Professor–” 

“Albus, please,” Professor Dumbledore said. “We’re not in school, and I don’t need to be a professor _all_ the time.” 

“Albus, why is _she_ the one answering?” Sarah asked Professor Dumbledore. 

“I like to talk,” Rose replied, beaming away as always. 

“I assure you I’m just as confused as you are,” he replied, turning to Rose. “Rose, how do you know all of this?” 

“Shadow told me.” 

“Isn’t Shadow her imaginary friend?” Emma whispered to Hermione. 

“I’ll explain later,” Hermione whispered back. 

“How did _Shadow_ know?” Albus asked patiently. 

“She worked it out. She’s quite logical, and she figured that, assuming that you were as clever as we think you are, that you wouldn’t have simply left the Stone in plain sight for people to take it. It being bait to lure Voldemort out into the open was the only explanation that made sense.” 

Rose smiled, and Albus noted that he had never seen this particular smile. Rose had almost no other facial expressions _other_ than smiles, so Albus was making the effort to distinguish one from another to make reading the little girl easier. This particular one included slightly glazed over eyes, as if she were daydreaming, and her smile wasn’t as broad as it normally was. 

Of all the expressions she had made, Albus actually recognized that one, despite not having seen it on Rose’s face before. It was the look of someone thinking fondly of another person. One might even use the word “love”. 

“I know it’s hard to believe,” Rose said, turning to the other adults, “but I had the situation under control. I don’t know what Hermione and Sally-Anne have told you about me, but _I_ went down there to save my friends. The only reason that these two had to be there was because I couldn’t handle everything alone.” She looked at both sets of parents. “Please believe me that they were never in any danger.” 

“ _I_ still don’t understand how Quirrell and Volds got past the dimensional prison,” Rose said, turning to the Headmaster. “Do you?” 

“Tom was always good at Arithmancy,” Albus explained. 

“Is _that_ his real name?” asked Rose. 

Professor Dumbledore nodded. 

“You were right,” Wilfred whispered to his daughter. “She does talk a lot.” 

“Hold on,” Rose said. “Even more important: How did he get past Professor Snape’s potions? The riddle was a fake, so he should’ve ended up drinking the wrong potion.” 

“If I may interrupt,” Sarah said. “This is a lot to take in at once, and I think it’d be best to get going.” She turned to Professor Dumbledore. “Professor Dumbledore, thank you for telling us all of this, rather than keeping it secret.” 

“You’re welcome, and I will continue to do so,” Professor Dumbledore said. “Your girls far exceeded all expectations. I’m proud to call them my students, and hope to continue to do so in the future. To that end, I will continue to be as open with everyone as I can.” 

Professor Dumbledore extended his hand to each of the other adults, each of whom shook it in turn. 

Turning to the girls, he said, “Ms. Granger, Ms. Perks, Ms. Peta-Lorrum, I look forward to seeing each of you next year. Until then, enjoy your holiday.” 

“Thank you, Sir,” Sally-Anne said. “And thank you for coming out here to talk with everyone.” 

“You are most certainly welcome, Ms. Perks.” 

“Yes, thank you,” Hermione added. 

Rose beamed. “See you soon!” 

Sally-Anne turned to both of her friends. “You two take care. Try not to get into too much trouble.” 

“Just like I told my sister: No promises!” said Rose. Without warning, she hugged her dirty-blonde friend. “Don’t go dying on me, okay?” 

“I wasn’t planning on it,” Sally-Anne said, returning the hug. She turned to Hermione, and the two girls embraced. 

“Don’t let Rose get you into trouble,” Sally-Anne said. 

“I’m not too worried,” Hermione replied. “I’m sure I’ll be fine. Enjoy the summer.” 

“You too.” 

The girls bid their final farewells for the summer, then went their separate ways. 

Hermione and Rose went together to Hermione’s family’s car. As they approached the vehicle, it occurred to Hermione that Rose had never seen a car before. 

“What’s that?” asked Rose as Hermione’s Dad began loading her luggage into the car. 

“The car?” asked her mum. 

“What’s a ‘car’?” 

“It’s like the Hogwarts Express, only smaller,” Hermione explained. “It runs on something called petrol. I don’t know much more than that.” 

“Okay.” 

As Hermione climbed in the car, she got a bad feeling. There was no way that was the last of Rose’s questions. 

* * *

“Sally-Anne,” her father began once they were in their car. “I’m glad you’re learning to stand up for yourself, but you should really be more careful.” 

“I know, Daddy,” Sally-Anne replied. “I was… I was just worried about my friends. I didn’t want Harry and Ron to get hurt.” 

“We’re very proud of you for watching out for them,” her mum said, “and we’re glad that you’re safe.” 

“Thanks, Mummy,” Sally-Anne said. “And it wasn’t the boys’ fault. Harry was just scared, and no one would listen to him. We tried going to the teachers for help, but they wouldn’t even hear us out! Harry was really scared because he thought Voldemort would come after him if he returned, and–” 

“Settle down, Sweety,” her dad said. “It’s over now. You’re safe, and that’s all that matters.” 

Sally-Anne took a few deep breaths to calm herself. “I’m sorry. It’s just that Harry’s been so scared for the past few months, but it’s like the teachers don’t care.” 

“You’ve mentioned Harry an awful lot in your letters lately,” her dad said. “Is there something we should know?” 

Sally-Anne’s face turned a faint shade of pink. “N-no, i-it’s just… I talk about him more than the others,” she said quickly. “ _With him_! I talk _with_ him more than the others!” 

Her parents both started to laugh. 

“Since Ron and Hermione are usually playing chess,” Sally-Anne said quickly, “and Rose is off doing… erm, whatever it is she does. There’s nothing–” 

“Relax, Sweety,” her mum said, still laughing. “Your father’s just picking on you. You’re only 12; you shouldn’t be worrying about boys for at least another year.” 

“Then we’ll _really_ start picking on you about it,” her father said jokingly. At least, Sally-Anne _hoped_ he was just joking. She decided to change the subject before her parents started to pry. 

“How’s work going, Dad?” 

“Quite well, thanks for asking,” he said. “It’s almost time for our annual Shakespeare Festival at the theatre.” 

“What play are they doing this year?” she asked. 

“ _Macbeth_ ,” her father replied. “Everyone’s been rehearsing every weekend for it for about a month now. You know how it is.” 

Sally-Anne nodded. “When are they performing it?” 

“August 1st.” 

“I can’t wait!” Sally-Anne exclaimed. “Any chance the director finally convinced you to go up on stage?” 

“But the tech crew needs me!” her father exclaimed in a booming voice. “Why, it would be curtains if I went on stage! Curtains!” 

Sally-Anne laughed, and while she didn’t see it, she was certain her mum was rolling her eyes. 

“Nearly a year away and you’ve still got your father’s sense of humor,” her mum muttered. 

“How about you, Mum? Work going okay?” 

“Yes.” 

“Okay, then.” 

Sally-Anne still didn’t know what her mum did, but her and her dad sometimes speculated about her mum’s job while her mum was on the phone. 

Sally-Anne closed her eyes, not realizing how tired she was until her parents woke her up to tell her that they were home. 

* * *

The first half of the car ride to Hermione’s house was spent answering Rose’s questions about cars, buildings, people, and anything else that popped into Rose’s head. 

“Why are we stopping? Is there trouble somewhere?!” 

“No, Rose, we just arrived at a red light,” Hermione replied, sighing. “We’ve done that a few times now.” 

“What’s that?” 

“It’s called a traffic light. It turns red to tell us to stop, and green to tell us to go.” 

“Why?” 

“Because there are a lot of cars on the road,” Mrs. Hermione’s Mum said. “There isn’t enough space for all of them to go at once, so we all need to take turns.” 

Emma and Dan weren’t too bothered by Rose’s questions. Hermione had been a curious child, so they already had answers to most of Rose’s questions. That didn’t mean that they _wanted_ to listen to the girl ask questions the entire car ride. 

About halfway into the trip home, Hermione had an idea that saved them all from further annoyance. 

_Mr. Grund, my crafting teacher, didn’t answer questions. Not while he was working anyway, so I’d write them down and ask them during lunch._

“Rose, why don’t you write down any other questions in your notebook and ask them later?” 

“Good idea, Hermione!” 

Emma mouthed “thank you” to Hermione through the rear view mirror. 

“Mum, Dad!” Hermione exclaimed after she had decided that Rose was definitely not going to ask anymore questions. “I’ve got great news!” 

“What is it?” asked her mum. 

“I met with Professor Vector a few days ago, and she gave me the final exam for the third year Arithmancy class.” 

“How’d you do?” asked her dad. 

“She said not only did I pass it, but I scored in at least the 50th percentile. She said I could take Arithmancy next year with the fourth-years!” 

“Hermione, that’s wonderful!” exclaimed her mum. 

“Congratulations!” added her dad. “We’re very proud of you.” 

Rose beamed at her, as she had when Hermione told her a few days ago. 

“Professor Vector said she’d already made sure that it wouldn’t interfere with any of my other classes, and I’m going to ask Cedric if he and his friends can walk with me.” 

“Failing that, I can always take her,” Rose said, looking up from her notebook for a moment. “It’s no trouble.” 

“Thank you, Rose,” Hermione’s Mum said. “And thank you, Hermione, for putting up with our worrying.” 

“Honestly, I feel safer walking around Hogwarts with someone,” Hermione replied. “It seems like trouble is around every corner at that school.” 

“It _is_ a lot of fun, isn’t it?” Rose sighed, smiling dreamily. 

“I’m not sure I’d use the word ‘fun’,” Emma said, looking at her daughter for an explanation. 

“Don’t ask,” Hermione mouthed, shaking her head. 

“So, Rose, where are you from?” Mr. Hermione’s Dad asked. 

Rose opened her mouth to reply “Rontus”, then realized that she was supposed to be from… where was that place again? 

<Ref, from where am I supposed to be?>

<Scotland.>

“Scotland.” 

“Where in Scotland?” 

_Crab apples!_

Not having been asked that question, Rose didn’t have a more specific answer other than “Scotland”. 

<Ref?>

<I’m afraid I can’t be of assistance.>

“She’s from Glasgow,” Hermione said quickly, naming the only Scottish city of which she could think. She turned to Rose. “Right?” 

“Yes,” Rose said, attempting to call up any information she had on this “Glasgow”. “That’s right!” 

The rest of the ride home was spent with Hermione telling her parents about her classes. When they arrived, Hermione’s parents and Rose all helped Hermione carry her belongings to her room. 

After that, Hermione showed Rose to her room. 

Rose guessed it was about 10 feet by 10 feet, with a single bed inside it. It had a dresser, a nightstand, and some shelves with books on it. Rose took down all this information while considering how best to defend it if necessary. 

“How come I’ve got a room?” 

“In case you want somewhere to craft in peace,” Hermione replied. 

“Oh,” Rose said. “That makes sense. I am planning on crafting while I’m here.” 

“Just don’t make too much noise,” Hermione said, switching on the light, which caused Rose to jump. 

“Calm down, it’s just the light.” 

“You’ve got a use-activated item of _light_?” 

Hermione frowned, then realized what Rose meant. “Oh, no, it’s not _magic_ , it’s _electricity_.” 

Rose looked at the light switch, then at the overhead light. She knew what electricity was, but why use electricity to emit light rather than fire? “How does it work?” 

Hermione closed her eyes, trying to recall what she knew about it. “You flip the switch, which completes a circuit, and that carries electricity from a power source to the light.” 

She opened her eyes again and found that Rose was standing on the bed to get a closer look at the light. 

“Rose, please don’t stand on the bed with your boots on,” Hermione said. 

“They’re not on my feet,” Rose replied absently. 

Hermione looked down and saw the boots on the floor. 

“Sorry,” she said. “If you’d like, we can go to the public library this weekend to read about electricity. I’m sure they’ve got plenty of books about it.” 

“I’d like that,” Rose said. 

She glanced over at the shelves, and something silver caught her eye. Rose hopped off the bed to get a closer look. 

“Oh, right, those shelves are pretty old,” Hermione said. “Dad had to patch up a crack last year, and we didn’t have any super glue at the time.” 

“What is that?” Rose asked, her eyes wide with wonder. 

“That?” Hermione replied. “Duct tape.” 

She wasn’t sure if she should be worried about the look her friend was giving the shelves. It was a look of wonder, but she could almost see the gears turning in the crimson-haired girl’s head. That look did not inspire confidence in Hermione; in fact, it did exactly the opposite. 

_I should probably make sure she isn’t going to get into any trouble_ , Hermione thought. “Penny for your thoughts?” 

“Huh?” 

“What’s on your mind?” 

“Oh!” Rose exclaimed. “How durable is it?” 

“Pretty durable, I think,” Hermione replied. She narrowed her eyes. “Why?” 

Rose grinned. “I think I might have an idea.” 

“So long as you don’t break anything,” Hermione said, too tired to care anymore. “I’m going to go unpack.” 

“Okay.” 

Hermione turned to leave, but something occurred to her. 

“Would you mind… _not_ wearing your cloak everywhere?” 

Rose cocked her head. “Why not?” 

“It’s just…” Hermione didn’t want to say “stupid”, although it was what she thought. It didn’t stand out much in Hogwarts, but here, especially if they had company over, it would stick out like a sore thumb (Then again, so would Rose). “I think it might be in the way here.” 

Rose tilted her head to the other side, and her cloak began to shrink. It receded into the hood, until it was no more than a shawl around her shoulders. When it was finished, Rose pulled the hood over her head, grinned, then removed the hood from her head. 

“That better?” 

“Much,” Hermione replied. “Thank you, Rose.” 

“Thank _you_ , Hermione,” Rose said. “You’re letting me into your home and allowing me to stay here. That means a lot.” 

“You’re welcome, Rose. Like I said, you’ve already saved my life. You’re my best friend; you’re always welcome here.” 

Rose grinned and began to bounce on her stocking feet. 

“What’s that look?” Hermione asked. 

As if to answer Hermione’s question, Rose wrapped her arms around her friend. 

“Oh, okay,” Hermione said, returning the hug. “I will try to remember that’s your ‘I’m about to hug you’ face.” 

* * *

Sally-Anne realized that she didn’t know where any of her friends lived. She mentioned this to her parents, who said they’d see what they could do. Her mum always managed to find out the answers to her questions, although of course, Sally-Anne didn’t know how. It was part of the reason that she was so accepting of Rose’s quirks. She had learned from her dad that so long as someone was being kind, you should accept it and be kind in return. 

“I’m also a little worried about sending a letter to Harry,” Sally-Anne said over breakfast Thursday morning. “He said that his aunt and uncle sometimes hide his letters, or just throw them away.” 

“That’s horrible,” her dad said. “Are his aunt and uncle abusive?” 

“I think so, but he won’t talk about it.” 

“Do you remember their names?” asked her mum, pulling out the PDA she used for work. She tapped it a few times, then looked up at Sally-Anne expectantly. 

“Erm, Dursley, I think,” Sally-Anne said, as her mum began to tap her PDA again. “I’m not sure how to spell it.” 

“I’ll ask around,” her mum said. “See if I can find anything. And Hermione’s surname is Granger, right?” 

“Yeah.” 

“That’s easy enough to spell. Excuse me.” 

Her mum stood up from the table and disappeared into another room. She came back a few minutes later, holding her PDA. 

“D-U-R-S-L-E-Y,” her mum said, reading something from her device. “Dursley, Vernon. Number Four Privet Drive, Little Whinging.” 

Her husband and daughter stared at her. 

“I think that’s him,” Sally-Anne said slowly. “‘Uncle Vernon’ rings a bell.” 

“Honey, how do you know that?” her dad asked. 

“That’s classified,” her mum replied, grinning slyly. 

“You checked the phone book, didn’t you?” 

“Fine,” she huffed as Sally-Anne laughed. “Take all the fun out of it, why don’t you?” 

“I guess I can _try_ sending him a letter,” Sally-Anne said. 

“What about sending it using an owl?” asked her dad. “You said Hogwarts had an owlery, right? Well, that can’t be the only one.” 

“Is there one in Diagon Alley?” asked her mum, putting away her PDA. 

“I don’t remember,” Sally-Anne replied. “There might be.” 

“Why don’t we go see if there’s something in Diagon Alley this afternoon?” her dad suggested. “You can write a letter to Harry on the way.” 

“It’s only about a half hour drive to Diagon Alley,” added her mum. “That’s not _so_ bad.” 

Sally-Anne smiled. Her parents were wonderful, always willing to help her out the best they could. 

“Thank you.” 

“Of course, Sweety,” her dad said. “We just want you to be happy, and your friends seem nice.” 

Wilfred glanced over at his wife and saw that she had her PDA out again. “I don’t suppose you’re looking up the address for Hermione Granger, are you?” 

Sarah slid the stylist back into the device, then put the device in its holster. “No, sorry, I’m just making sure that there’s nothing urgent that needs my attention.” 

“Honey, it’s Saturday, it’s alright to take a break. I’m sure the world isn’t going to end just yet.” 

“It had better not,” Sarah said, smiling. She turned to her daughter. “I don’t see any problem with going to Diagon Alley today.” 

“Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome, Sweety.” 

* * *

_Hermione’s_ adventures started Wednesday morning. Hermione woke up, sat up in her bed, stretched and climbed out of bed. After throwing on some clothes, she walked out of her room, and happened to pass by Rose’s room. 

The door was closed. _Why_ was the door closed? 

Hermione knocked on the girl’s door. 

“Rose!” 

“Almost done!” 

“Done doing _what?_ ” 

“Modifications to my belt!” 

Hermione paused. Rose had always crafted in the Room of Requirement, where there were plenty of supplies to do so. That was something that the guest bedroom was sorely lacking, so how was she modifying her belt? 

“You aren’t taking the room apart, are you?” 

The door finally opened, and Rose poked her head out of it. “No, of course not. Why would I be doing that?” 

“No reason,” Hermione replied. “May I come in?” 

“Sure,” Rose said, opening the door the rest of the way. “See? Room’s just the way you left it!” 

Hermione looked around the small room, and, sure enough, it was still exactly the same as it had been the previous night. Even the bed was untouched. 

_Of course, she doesn’t sleep_ , Hermione reminded herself. 

“How did you modify your belt?” 

“It was just an enchantment, so I don’t need a lot of raw materials, just gold.” 

“What’d you do?” asked Hermione, looking at the thick leather belt around her friend’s waist. 

“Added a _stone dragon belt_ to it,” Rose replied. She grinned. “In 24 hours, it’ll take effect, then I’ll be able to use _mountain hammer_.” Her grin broadened. “Did you know Item Creation allows me to emulate maneuvers? Cos I certainly didn’t!” 

Hermione stared at her friend. “Should I even ask what _mountain hammer_ is?” 

“Dungeon redecorator!” 

That continued the next day, and the next day. Rose always seemed to have something to do. Thursday it was adding a pair of _slippers of the setting sun_ to her boots so she could throw people, and Friday it was adding a pair of _gauntlets of throwing_ to her gloves so she could throw _Crimson Thorn_. 

Saturday morning, Hermione found Rose sitting in her room drawing. Not crafting, not making something else ridiculous, just drawing. 

“I was thinking we could join my parents for breakfast, then go to the library, if it’s alright with mum and dad.” 

“Sounds fun!” Rose exclaimed, putting away her sketchpad. “Are your parents expecting me to eat?” 

“Had you not given me the _ring of sustenance_ , they probably wouldn’t have believed me when I told them you don’t eat. Having seen me not eat for a nearly a week, they believe me now.” 

“Oh, good! I’m not sure I can eat.” 

Hermione frowned. “Does _veil of undeath_ shut down your digestive system as well as your vascular system?” 

“Be honest: How many of those words did you make up just now?” 

“None,” Hermione said. “Your digestive system is what allows you to process food, and your vascular system is your heart.” 

Rose thought for a moment, then said, “ _You_ don’t _need_ to eat food; _I can’t_ eat food.” 

“That’s what I was asking.” 

Rose huffed. “You and Sk’lar with your big words.” 

“What about ‘Intelligencer’?” Hermione shot back. “That’s just a big word for ‘messenger’!” 

“I know. I asked Sk’lar for a big word for ‘messenger’. After about four words, he said ‘Intelligencer’, and I liked it!” 

“Oh,” Hermione said. How much thinking did Sk’lar and Shadow do for Rose? And that was still assuming that they were _real_ , and not just other aspects of her personality, like dissociative identity disorder. Either answer made sense to Hermione. 

The girls reached the breakfast table and sat down. 

“Good morning, girls,” Hermione’s mum greeted them. “Did you two sleep okay?” 

“No, but that’s because I don’t sleep,” Rose said. 

“That’s right, Hermione mentioned that. Do you eat?” 

Emma had already talked with her daughter regarding the fact that the crimson-haired girl had remained shut inside the guest bedroom the past few days. The explanation she had received was “She does that.” Emma and Dan hadn’t been satisfied with that answer, but they accepted it after their daughter explained that she didn’t have a better one. 

“No, I don’t think my digressive system works.” 

Emma turned to her daughter for an explanation. 

“She means _digestive_ system.” 

“Oh,” Emma said. “Are you sure? You look sort of–” 

“Pale, I know,” Rose said. “Heart doesn’t beat either. Didn’t know _veil of undeath_ would do that until I used it, but it makes sense.” 

Emma tried to understand, but quickly gave up and made a mental note to get Hermione to write up some sort of Rose-to-English translation. 

“Well, I’m making scrambled eggs. Hermione, would you like some?” 

“Yes, please.” 

“I’ll take some too, please,” her dad said as he walked into the kitchen, kissing his wife on the cheek as he made his way to one of the chairs. “Rose, good to see you’ve come out of hibernation. You girls have any plans for the day?” 

“Rose and I were thinking of going to go to the library so Rose will stop asking how everything works,” Hermione replied, looking over at her friend. 

Rose was staring at the ceiling fan that resided over the kitchen table, her head following the blades as they circled one another. 

“Sounds like fun,” Hermione’s dad said, eyeing the girl. “How long can she keep that up?” 

“I don’t think Rose gets dizzy,” Hermione replied as her mum put a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of her. “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

Hermione ate her breakfast, and all the while, Rose continued to stare at the fan. A few times, Dan considered turning up the fan to see what his daughter’s friend would do, but decided he shouldn’t pick on the girl. 

After she was finished eating, Hermione reminded Rose that they were planning on going to the library. 

“It’s within walking distance,” Hermione said. “It’s only about twenty minutes or so.” 

“I can just _dim door_ us there,” Rose said without taking her eyes off the fan. 

“Rose, we aren’t supposed to use magic outside of Hogwarts,” Hermione reminded her. 

“So?” 

“Most muggles don’t know about magic.” 

“Why not?” 

“It’s the Statute of Secrecy,” Hermione said. “I _know_ you’ve read about it.” 

“It rings a bell,” Rose said. “Something about being hunted for having magic. Does that mean I have to walk the whole way there like a mortal?” 

“Mortal?” mouthed Emma to Dan. One thing upon which all three of the Grangers had agreed: Rose had a _unique_ vocabulary. 

“Yes, Rose, just like a normal person,” Hermione said. “It’s not so bad. I’m just going to wash up, then how about we get going?” 

“Okay,” Rose said, still staring at the fan. 

* * *

To Sally-Anne’s delight, she found an owlery at Diagon Alley that afternoon. The clerk, who looked like she was sick from the smell, took some sickles from Sally-Anne and told her to use a white and brown owl. The owl took one look at the envelope addressed to “Harry Potter” and flew out one of the windows. 

“Thank you!” Sally-Anne called on her way out of the building. 

“No problem,” the clerk replied, coughing. 

Sally-Anne took a breath of fresh air when she got out of the owlery. 

“Everything alright?” asked her mum. 

“Yeah,” Sally-Anne replied. “I think they need to open a window in there or something.” 

“But you were able to send your letter?” 

“Yeah. Harry should get the letter tomorrow morning. Owls always deliver letters at exactly the same time each day.” 

“Wonderful. Now I think we need to leave before your father gets any more ideas from the locals.” 

Sally-Anne glanced over at her father, who was looking around at all the houses and muttering something to himself. Sally-Anne knew that look; he was thinking of more ideas for sets for plays, and the logistics of lighting and audio. 

“Dad, we’re all ready,” Sally-Anne said. 

“Right,” he replied absently. 

“We can come back when Sally-Anne buys school supplies,” her mum added. 

Slowly, the two women led Wilfred towards the exit, leaving him to mutter in fascination about the wall that folded away to allow them to leave Diagon Alley. 

* * *

“Rose, you’re going to have to learn to act normal if you want me to take you anywhere,” Hermione said as they left the library. 

“Ugh, you sound like Shadow!” complained Rose. “I didn’t even set anything on fire!” 

“I appreciate that, as well as the lack of _prying eyes_ ,” Hermione continued. “However, other people _don’t_ appreciate you touching their books while they’re reading them. It’s weird. Also, I don’t think those parents appreciated you talking with their children.” 

“Nah, the children loved me! They thought I was funny!” 

When the girls had arrived at the library, Rose had been wearing her cloak in its full form. More importantly, they learned that there was a children’s story time event going on that morning, and the reader just so happened to be dressed up as Little Red Riding Hood. Most importantly, the reader hadn’t shown up, so the librarian believed Rose to be the reader. 

“It was you explaining in detail how to make a Molotov cocktail that was annoying their parents.” 

Needless to say, Rose’s children skills were somewhat lacking. 

“Self defence!” 

“Rose!” 

“But one of them asked me!” she whined. 

“They asked how to defend themselves from monsters,” Hermione said. “Although, you didn’t bring up– or _out_ – _Crimson Thorn_ , so I guess I should be grateful.” 

“That’s the spirit!” 

“And you didn’t destroy the dragon picture they had.” 

Rose muttered something under her breath. 

“Did you learn all you wanted to?” Hermione asked. 

“I think so,” Rose said. “If I’ve got anymore questions, you’ll be the first one to whom I ask them!” 

“Rose, there’s something I’ve been wondering,” Hermione said, gladly putting the library incident behind them. “You don’t seem to think anything through very far, but you never end your sentences with a preposition. How come?” 

“Sk’lar always flinched when I did, so I taught myself not to do so.” 

Hermione frowned. “Why did he do that?” 

“His parents.” 

“What about his parents?” 

Rose shook her head. “Sk’lar and I have got a rule: I don’t talk about his parents, and he doesn’t talk about mine. Don’t worry; he’s fine now.” 

“I guess my questions end there,” Hermione said. “I’m glad we don’t have to worry about anything like that.” 

When Hermione saw Rose’s face, she knew she was wrong. 

“Who?” 

“Harry.” 

“Really? I didn’t realize. He mentioned something about them, but do they treat him _that_ badly?” 

“I told Ref to stop reading everyone’s minds, but that passed the danger filter, so he told me. I’ll fill you in on the way back to your house.” 


	2. Harry Potter Liberation Front

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a plan to free Harry is formed.

**Disclaimer:** Since J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter, we can’t save him from her, but anyone else is fair game. 

* * *

As July rolled around, things stayed about the same at the Granger household. Rose continued to be her normal, strange self, and the Grangers slowly adjusted to the girl’s strange behavior. She slowly stopped asking questions, although Hermione was beginning to suspect that Rose was sneaking out to the library at night. 

“That’s interesting,” Hermione’s dad said as he was rifling through the mail. 

“What is it?” her mum asked. 

He turned to Rose, who was sitting with them at the table. 

“Rose has mail,” he said, handing her an envelope. 

Rose looked at the envelope, pulled her goggles over her eyes, and studied the paper intently for several minutes before finally opening it. 

_Dear Hermione and Rose_ , 

_I hope you two are doing well. Things are a lot quieter here than at school. I hope you don’t mind, but Mum looked up Hermione’s address so I could write to you. I guess we were all so caught up in the events of May that we forgot to get each other’s addresses. I was sure to put my return address on this letter so you’d know where I live too._

_Have either of you heard from Harry? I sent him a letter by owl to make sure he was alright, but I haven’t heard back from him. I’m not sure if he’s told you about his aunt and uncle, but they’re really awful people. He said they don’t feed him well, throw out his mail, and made him live under the stairs for most of his life. Would you mind sending Intelligencer? I just want to make sure he’s okay. I’m really worried._

_Your Friend_ , 

_Sally-Anne_

Rose passed it to Hermione. “It’s from Sally-Anne. She’s worried about Harry.” 

Hermione read the letter, then turned to Rose. “Can you send Intelligencer?” 

“I’m sure I can, but I’d need to prepare him first. I don’t want him going into a potentially hostile environment without some means of communication. I’ll need to figure out what I’m going to do first, but once I do, it should only take a minute.” 

“How long will that take?” 

“Don’t know,” Rose said, pulling out a book Hermione had never seen before. 

“What’s that?” 

“Homunculus reference,” Rose said, flipping through the pages. “Refreshing my memory about what I can do to enhance Int. Specifically, I need to increase the range over which Int can communicate, and maybe up his fly speed.” 

“I’ll leave you to that,” Hermione said. 

* * *

Dobby the House-Elf was terrified. His Master had said that something bad was going to happen at Hogwarts this year, and Dobby had to stop it. Except that Dobby knew he couldn’t, since he was sure that his Master would be upset, but he could protect Harry Potter. 

So the house-elf had devised the perfect plan. He would stop Harry Potter from going back to Hogwarts. Dobby was waiting outside of Harry Potter’s house for the morning owls. His masters didn’t pay any attention to him this early, so long as food was ready for them. The owls would deliver them their mail, and they would be none the wiser. This freed up Dobby to stand guard outside of Harry Potter’s house and intercept his mail. That way, Harry Potter would think his friends had forgotten him, and he wouldn’t want to go back to school. Then Harry Potter would be saved thanks to Dobby! 

Sure enough, an owl came flying down towards Harry Potter’s house, letter in claw. Wait, no, that wasn’t an owl. Then why was it carrying a letter? 

It didn’t matter; if it had a letter, then Dobby had to stop it. Dobby raised his hand and used his magic to draw in the creature. It was pulled off course, and Dobby saw that it was some sort of flying ferret. Dobby had never seen one of those before. What was it? 

The ferret squirmed as it was pulled towards Dobby, but then it suddenly vanished from sight. 

Dobby jumped back, startled by the sudden appearance of a human. 

“Who are you?” asked the young girl in a Scottish accent. “Why were you hurting Int?” 

Dobby resisted the urge to respond. If he did, then he would utter his name, and this girl would know who he was. 

“Dobby,” the girl said. 

“How is you knowing Dobby’s name?” squealed Dobby. 

“That’s not important right now,” the girl said. “What _is_ important is that I’m dying to try out _mighty throw_. Saint Nature always made it look fun, so I can’t wait to try it.” 

Behind her, the ferret flew up to Harry’s window. 

“No!” Dobby exclaimed. “You must not be sending letters to Harry Potter!” 

“Why not?” 

Dobby needed to act, and he needed to do it fast. He threw his hand forward, magically propelling the girl away from him. 

To his surprise, she vaulted off one hand, landing nimbly on her feet. Even more shocking was what happened next. 

The girl _sank into the ground_. 

Dobby looked around him, then pulled the ferret away from the window. He didn’t have time for this; Master and Mistress could notice his absence any second! 

Dobby heard a churning sound from behind him and instinctively jumped away from it. Sure enough, it was the cloaked girl rising out of the ground. 

“You can’t win, Dobby,” she said. 

It had taken a while, but Dobby had finally remembered something that his young Master had said. 

_That mudblood with her stupid red cloak!_

Was this the girl that his young Master hated so much? The girl that could make walls of stone appear out of thin air? 

Dobby saw Harry Potter’s window opening up and knew he had lost. With a snap of his fingers, he vanished. 

Rose watched the house-elf teleport, then sank back into the ground in order to stay out of sight. 

* * *

Harry heard a commotion from outside, but didn’t see anything when he looked out of his bedroom window. Anything besides Intelligencer with a letter in his paws. 

He opened his bedroom window, and the small creature flew inside. He looked bigger than Harry remembered, but he didn’t pay much attention to Rose’s ferret thing. 

“Thank you,” he said. 

“You’re welcome,” Intelligencer replied in Rose’s voice. 

Harry jumped, dropping the letter. He had forgotten that Intelligencer could talk. Harry bent over to pick up the letter, then began to read it. 

_Dear Harry_ , 

_Sally-Anne sent you a letter two weeks ago, but she hasn’t heard back yet. She told us about your aunt and uncle, and said that she didn’t think that an owl would be able to get through them. So, she asked Rose and I to send you a letter on her behalf. We’re all worried about you, Harry. Why didn’t you tell us they were so awful?_

_Anyway, we just wanted to make sure that you were doing alright. If there are any problems, please let us know immediately. We’re your friends, and we’re happy to help._

_Sincerely_ , 

_Hermione (and Rose)_

Harry looked at the letter, then back at Intelligencer. 

“Intelligencer, right?” 

The creature before him nodded. 

“I never got a letter from Sally-Anne. This is the only letter I’ve got all summer.” 

The ferret (What was the word Rose used? Hum something?) stared off into space, then said “Harry, it’s Rose. There was a house-elf hidden near your house. He attacked Intelligencer, so I stepped in to help… Intelligencer, not the elf. Does the name Dobby ring a bell?” 

Harry couldn’t believe it. Someone had sent a _house-elf to stop his post?_ Who would do something like that? Well, there was Malfoy, he probably would. Or maybe Snape, he didn’t like Harry that much. It could also be any one of Voldemort’s followers. Why did so many people hate him? 

“I’m gonna take that as a ‘no’,” Intelligencer said. “I’ll talk with Hermione. Sit tight, and we’ll sort out this mess.” 

“Thanks,” Harry said, not thrilled to be put on the side lines while his fate was decided for him. It seemed like people were making a habit of doing that. 

Intelligencer flew back out the window and off into the morning sky. 

* * *

Sally-Anne was watching a film with her parents that afternoon when there was a knock on the door. 

“I’ll get it,” Sally-Anne said, happy for the excuse to stop watching. Normally, she enjoyed the film her parents watched, but this time the film her dad had picked out was boring. 

Sally-Anne ran to the door and opened it to find… 

“Rose?” 

“Salutations!” 

“Sorry to come over unannounced,” Hermione said. “But there’s a problem.” 

“Who is it?!” shouted Sally-Anne’s mum. 

“Hermione and Rose!” 

Sally-Anne heard the film pause, followed by footsteps pattering across the floor. Her mum appeared beside her, looking from the crimson-haired girl to the bushy-haired girl. 

“Hello,” her mum said. “I didn’t realize that you were coming over.” 

“I’m really sorry, Ma’am,” Hermione said. “I know it’s rude to show up unannounced, but there’s… well…” 

“Someone sent a house-elf to intercept Harry’s mail, and we wanted to talk with Sally-Anne about it,” Rose said. 

“House-elves are sort of slaves in the Magical World,” Hermione said. 

“Well-treated slaves!” added Rose. “Well, _this_ one in particular didn’t look well-treated, but they’re treated wonderfully at Hogwarts.” 

Mrs. Perks paused, then motioned for them to come inside. “Come in, come in. We’ll talk about this inside where we don’t have to worry about people overhearing.” 

The two girls walked inside, removing their shoes when they entered. Or in Rose’s case, turning her boots invisible so no one complained about her wearing them. 

“It’s just an NPC’s house,” she hissed to Hermione. 

“I don’t care,” Hermione hissed back. “We are guests in this house, we _will_ behave appropriately. We’re already showing up unannounced.” 

“ _Now_ you sound like _Carolina_ ,” whined Rose in a hushed voice. “‘Rose, stop treating the NPCs like they don’t exist.’ ‘No, Rose, we can’t just throw an NPC down the pit to see how deep it is.’ ‘Rose, it’s mean to suggest using an NPC as firewood.’” 

“Take. Off. Your. Boots.” 

“Fine,” huffed Rose as her boots vanished. “Happy?” 

“Satisfied.” 

The Perks family, Hermione, and Rose all sat around the kitchen table. 

“Would either of you girls like something to eat?” asked Mr. Perks. 

“No, thank you, Sir,” Hermione and Rose replied. 

“So in addition to his aunt and uncle being abusive,” Mrs. Perks opened the meeting, “there’s a house-elf stopping his post?” 

“Yes,” Rose said. “Ref was able to pull a name from his mind, as well as ‘I’ve got to be stopping Harry Potter from returning to Hogwarts!’” 

“Why would someone want to stop Harry from going back to Hogwarts?” asked Sally-Anne. 

“I thought Malfoy at first,” Hermione said, “but I would think his first target to get rid of would be Rose, not Harry.” 

“Did Ref say why?” Mr. Perks asked. 

Rose shook her head, sending her bobbed crimson hair flying around. “No, he didn’t catch it.” 

“Whatever the case, we should really get that boy out of there,” Mrs. Perks said. “Depending on how bad it is there, we may be able to invoke the Children Act.” 

“Why are we getting children to act?” Rose asked. 

“No, Rose, the Children Act is a law passed a few years ago that requires caretakers of children to meet certain standards when caring for children,” Hermione said. “Harry’s aunt and uncle are his legal guardians, presumably, so they have to fulfill certain criteria.” 

“Very good, Hermione,” Mrs. Perks said. 

Hermione smiled at receiving praise from an authority figure. Despite her growing distrust of certain authority figures (Quirrell, Snape), her parents had already spent over ten years drilling into her head that she should respect her superiors. 

“If his aunt and uncle don’t meet the criteria as put forth by the Act,” Mrs. Perks said, “then the court can step in and Harry could be relocated.” 

“But if they investigate too closely, couldn’t that break the Statute of Secrecy?” asked Hermione. 

“I had forgotten about that,” Mrs. Perks said. “Is there some equivalent to the Children Act in the Magical World?” 

“I don’t think so,” Hermione said. “The Magical World is a little medieval in its ways, so I doubt there are any child protection laws.” 

Sally-Anne’s heart sank. She had been so hopeful that there was something she could do to help out Harry, but now it turned out that there was nothing. No, she couldn’t give up. There had to be _something_ that they could do to help out their friend. 

From the way Harry had spoken about his aunt and uncle, it sounded as if they didn’t even _want_ him there. Would they care if he just left? It was horrible to think, but it was all she had at that moment. 

“Can we… Can we just take him?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“I don’t think we can,” Hermione said slowly. “They’re his legal guardians, so that would be kidnapping.” 

“It’s only kidnapping if they report it,” Rose said. “Just like it’s only illegal if you get caught!” 

Everyone else at the table stared at Rose, who naturally grinned back at them. 

“Alice told me that!” 

“Of course she did,” Hermione sighed. 

“She’s got a point,” Mr. Perks said. “Not that I’m suggesting kidnapping Harry from his aunt and uncle, but I don’t think they’d much care if he were gone.” 

Wilfred glanced over and saw the look on his daughter’s face. Her face was downcast, like she was about to cry. 

“Sweety, it’s alright,” he said. 

“How can someone treat their own family like that?” she asked. 

“I asked the same thing about Sk’lar’s parents for a long time,” Rose said. “Shortly after we first met, and I started calling him my brother, I hugged him. He didn’t know what to do, so I told him that family members hug each other. He was so confused because he honestly didn’t realize that families showed any affection toward one another, because his parents don’t show affection toward anyone they aren’t brown-nosing, including each other.” 

Sally-Anne thought about that for a long time. She could imagine Harry, completely unloved by what was left of his family, not knowing how to respond to affection. Would that happen to Harry, just as it had happened to Rose’s brother? Harry was her friend; Sally-Anne had to do something to help him. She _would_ do something to help him. If she couldn’t do anything, then she would find someone who _could_. 

In fact, that gave her an idea. 

“Why don’t we ask Professor McGonagall for help?” she suggested. “Or Professor Dumbledore? Maybe they can help him.” 

“That might work,” her mum said, lifting Sally-Anne’s spirits. “They would know the laws of the Magical World best, although I’m not sure if they’ve got the authority to have him legally removed from the premises.” 

“Professor Dumbledore’s one of the highest authorities in the Magical World,” Hermione said. “Maybe one of them could go over personally?” 

“Depending on Harry’s aunt’s and uncle’s understanding of magic, they may be able to intimidate them,” suggested Rose. “Although Professor McGonagall’s pretty good at that _without_ magic.” 

“Not to rain on everyone’s parade, but where would Harry go in the meantime?” asked Mr. Perks. “Assuming this whole things works, and we get Harry out of there, where would he stay?” 

That didn’t stop Sally-Anne at all, but instead served to make the dirty-blonde girl even more excited than she already was. 

“Ron said he might be able to take Harry,” she said. 

“I can contact Ronald to verify,” Rose added, “and I can get a hold of both Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore.” 

“I’ll see what we can do on our end,” Sarah said, producing her PDA. “There might be some part of the Children Act that allows us to designate a particular person to go verify Harry’s well-being.” 

“I’ll go watch the rest of my film,” Wilfred said, excusing himself from the table. 

“I’m going to go pretend my life is normal just as soon as my crimson-haired friend teleports us back to my house with her magic powers,” Hermione said. 

“I’m not sure how you can pretend to be normal after everything that’s happened to us,” Sally-Anne said. 

“I can try.” 

* * *

Molly Weasley was just preparing breakfast for her family the next morning when she heard a knock at her door. Who would be knocking at this hour? She wasn’t expecting company this early. Not that it would be a problem, considering she made enough food to feed two of her family. Or half of her family, depending on how hungry the boys were. It was always hit-and-miss with George, Ron, and Fred. It also depended on whether Percy came down for breakfast, or if he stayed in his room as he had been. She knew he was 16 and needed his space, but she was starting to worry about that boy. 

Still lost in thought, Molly answered the door to find a pale girl in a red cloak standing before her. Something about her struck Molly as familiar, but she couldn’t place the girl. 

“May I help you, young lady?” Molly asked. 

“Salutations, Mrs. Weasley!” the young girl greeted her, curtsying. “My name is Rose Peta-Lorrum, and I’m a friend of Ronald’s!” 

That’s right! She had heard Ron say something about a girl at school who wore a red cloak all the time. Was this her? How did she know where they lived? How had she arrived there? Portkey? 

“ _Discern location_ and _teleport_ , but that’s not important right now. If it’s not too much trouble, I would like to speak with you, your husband, and Ronald.” 

“What’s this about?” Molly asked, actively ignoring the fact that the girl had just responded to Molly’s thoughts. 

“Harry Potter.” 

Rose wasn’t sure how it had happened, but next thing she knew she was sitting at a table with no less than five large plates of food on it. 

“Ronald!” Molly called up the stairs. “Arthur! We’ve got a guest!” 

“What are you on about?” Ron asked as he drearily descended the stairs. As he did, he spotted Rose sitting patiently at the table. 

“Hey, Rose,” he said. “Why are you here?” 

“Harry’s in trouble and needs our help!” 

_That_ woke up Ron. 

“His aunt and uncle?” 

“There’s more,” she said. “I’d rather not explain more than once.” 

Slowly, each of the Weasleys, including one Rose hadn’t seen before, arrived at the breakfast table. All the while Rose waited at the table, smiling away as if it were a normal day. 

“Salutations, everyone!” Rose greeted everyone after she was informed that there were no more Weasleys left to join them. “Father Weasley, Sister Weasley, my name is Rose Peta-Lorrum!” 

“Hello,” greeted the other young girl at the table, whom Reflectesalon informed Rose was called “Ginevra” according to Mother Weasley. 

“Pleasure,” Father Weasley said. “What’s this about?” 

“A house-elf is intercepting Harry Potter’s mail, and his aunt and uncle are abusive. Therefore, the other PCs and I have seen fit to extract him from the premises.” 

“What’s a ‘PC’?” asked Father Weasley, exchanging confused looks with his wife. “Is that a Muggle thing?” 

“No, it’s a Rose thing,” Ron said. “I can’t remember what it means; Rose-to-English translation is Hermione’s job.” 

“Hermione, Sally-Anne, and I, along with her parents, have worked out a plan in which we can safely remove Harry from his aunt and uncle’s house, until such time as which we have dealt with the house-elf,” Rose said, remembering the words of her brother and uncle: 

_When talking with new people, be polite, and speak clearly_ , her uncle had said. _Make sure that you are well understood by all people present._

_And speak formally_ , Sk’lar had added. _It’s alright for people to underestimate you some of the time, but there are times when you need to be taken seriously._

“Why come here?” Father Weasley asked her. “Sure, Harry’s Ron’s best friend, but why come to us first?” 

“You need somewhere for him to stay, right?” asked Ron, who had been asking his dad’s question since seeing Rose at the table. It was the only thing that made sense. If she had just needed to liberate Harry, then she would’ve just gotten the Twins to help her instead of the entire family, since they were usually all for breaking the rules. Asking to speak with his parents and him meant that Rose needed something from his parents, and probably needed him to explain Rose to them or something. The only thing of which Ron could think that Rose would want from his parents was a place to stay, since, if Sally-Anne had been involved in the planning of this whole thing, she had surely mentioned that Ron had offered Harry residence at the Burrow. 

Ron wasn’t always that bright, but he could handle logic and think ahead, two skills he had picked up from playing so much chess. Especially against Hermione; he would never admit it, but she kept him on his toes. 

“Good job, Ronald,” Rose said. “That’s correct; once we extract Harry, we’ll need a place for him to stay until the end of the summer. Ronald mentioned that there might be room here, and if it’s not too much of an imposition, we were–” 

“There’s _plenty_ of room here,” Mother Weasley cut off the pale “child”. “We’d be happy to take him. If you girls would like, you could even stay here a few days.” 

“I’ll let the others know,” Rose said. “Thank you very much, Ma’am.” 

Molly exchanged glances with Arthur, who nodded his approval of the idea. They both knew that they had the space, so it wasn’t an issue. 

“Is that all?” Molly asked. “Why don’t you have some breakfast before you go? You look like you haven’t eaten in weeks!” 

“Months, actually,” Rose replied. “I don’t need to eat though,” she added, seeing the look on Mother Weasley’s face. 

“No, no, I _insist_ ,” Molly said, collecting a plate of food for Rose. 

“My body can’t process food anymore.” 

_Everyone_ stared at Rose, each wanting an explanation as to why she couldn’t eat. Rose picked up on this, so she began to explain. 

“Hermione and I worked out that my respiratory, digestive, vascular, circulatory, and reproductive systems are shut down,” Rose explained, referring to her notebook for the exact names. “My nervous system is still intact, but that’s about the only thing separating me from being actually undead. I don’t need to breathe, eat, or sleep to survive, but I do need to breathe to talk.” 

Each of the Weasleys continued to stare at their unexpected guest. Ron and the Twins had some idea of all of this, but none of them had any idea as to the extent of Rose’s… condition. 

“What _are_ you?” Arthur Weasley asked after a long silence. 

“I’m an optimizer,” Rose said. “ _Veil of undeath_ continues to be well worth the cost, considering the only _actual_ cost is needing negative energy to heal rather than positive energy, and that was a simple mod to my belt to fix that I made last night. My belt can now heal or harm people with the same three charges.” 

“Does that make sense to _you_?” Ginny asked Ron. 

“Not really,” he replied. “ _Veil of undeath_ is what she uses to make herself look like she’s ill, and it makes her immune to stuff like poison, but I don’t know what she means by positive or negative energy.” 

“She’s immune to poison?” 

“Yeah, it was great,” Ron whispered, grinning. “I thought Snape was gonna explode when she told him that.” 

“Anyway, I’ve got places to be,” Rose said. “I’m contacting Professor McGonagall next to enlist her help in actually extracting Harry. Hermione figured that a teacher would have more luck than one of us.” 

“Good luck, Dear,” Molly said, showing their guest to the door. “Come back soon!” 

“Thank you again, Ma’am,” Rose said, smiling. 

_What a nice family,_ Rose thought. _It’s a shame they’re NPCs and thus only really good for cannon fodder._

* * *

Minerva McGonagall was enjoying a relaxing summer break. She was out in the lovely Scottish countryside, watching the beautiful, halcyon fields from the porch of some friends of hers. She did nothing else, just watched the wind bend the blades of glass across the field before her as the sun came up. 

Minerva sipped her chamomile tea, and enjoyed the peace and– 

“Salutations, Professor McGonagall!” 

Murder. She was going to murder that child. She could transfigure the body so no one would ever know. Peta-Lorrum just wouldn’t show up for the next term. She was an orphan, so there was no family with which to deal, and her friends would get over it after they realized how much better life was without her. 

_Now I know how Severus feels._

“What are you doing here, Peta-Lorrum?” Minerva asked as calmly as she could. 

“A house-elf is intercepting all owl-based mail directed to Harry Potter.” 

Minerva slowly turned to face the girl. 

“What?” she deadpanned. 

Rose proceeded to explain the events of the past few weeks as they related to Harry. Minerva patiently listened to everything the crimson-haired girl had to say, from the expeditious messenger being attacked, to the planning session with Perks’s parents. 

“I knew it,” Minerva said when the crimson-haired girl was finished. “I _knew_ it was a bad idea to leave him with those… _people_.” 

Rose took note that Professor McGonagall hissed the word “people”. 

“So it sounds like you’ve got a plan?” Minerva asked the pale girl. 

“The Weasleys have agreed to keep Harry with them for the rest of the summer,” Peta-Lorrum said. “They insisted that it wouldn’t be too much trouble, so we’re going to move him to their house. I need _your_ help to extract him, since everyone else has insisted that we do this the lawful way.” 

“If we don’t do this the right way, Ms. Peta-Lorrum, the fallout could be drastic,” Minerva scolded. “If the Dursleys choose to call the authorities, although I doubt that they would, the Statute of Secrecy would be in jeopardy. However, if _I_ were to go in and have him come with me, it would send the message that the entire school is backing the extraction, as you seem so keen on calling it, which would give them no choice but to comply.” 

“Can I still come?” Rose asked. 

Minerva opened her mouth to shout “No!” in her most stern voice, but caught herself. If she went in alone, then there was every chance that Lily’s sister and that awful man she married would throw her out without Harry Potter. If _Peta-Lorrum_ were to join her, the girl would probably _force_ them to let them leave with Potter. Failing that, Minerva could remind them that if they didn’t comply, then Rose knew where they lived, and would visit them every single day so long as Harry remained with them. It was diabolical, but knowing that girl, it would work as a last resort. 

“So long as you do _exactly_ as I say,” Minerva said sternly. 

“Will do!” Rose replied, beaming. “Does tomorrow work for you?” 

“I will catch the first portkey back to London tomorrow morning,” Professor McGonagall replied. “And Ms. Peta-Lorrum?” 

“Yes, Ma’am?” 

“Thank you for coming to me instead of charging in like you always do.” 

“I don’t ‘charge in’,” Rose huffed. “I form a plan and execute it! This plan just happens to involve authority figures.” 

Minerva pressed her lips together and took a deep breath. “Thank you for involving authority figures in your plan.” 

“You’re welcome,” Rose replied with all the tone of a child being forced to say something. 

Rose pulled out her _staff of passage_ from her quiver, tossing it a little ways into the air. As she caught it, she vanished, leaving Minerva to enjoy her morning in peace once again. 

* * *

That night, Hermione noticed Rose writing in her notebook. That was odd; Rose only wrote in her notebook when she was talking with other people, since they were her source for notes. Why was she writing in it now? Tomorrow was the big day, when Professor McGonagall and Rose would go to save Harry from his aunt and uncle, so they both needed rest, or whatever it was Rose did in place of rest. 

In the morning, Rose would take Hermione and Sally-Anne to the Burrow to await Harry’s arrival. From there, Rose was to go pick up Professor McGonagall, and together they would liberate Harry from the Dursleys. Mrs. Perks would cover their escape, so to speak, by ensuring that local authorities would be notified if the Dursleys tried to act against them. 

“Everything alright?” Hermione asked her friend. 

“I’m writing a letter to my parents,” Rose replied. 

Hermione gave her best warm smile. She often forgot that underneath layers of sickening amounts of joy, Rose was still a little girl that missed her mum and dad. 

“Okay,” Hermione said. “Good night, Rose.” 

“Good night, Hermione.” 

* * *

_Dear Mum and Dad_ , 

_My friends and I stopped an evil maniac from taking over the world! Well, I assume he was trying to take over the world, although I don’t actually know he was. Harry and Ron went to stop him first, since Harry was scared that Voldemort (that’s the bad guy) was going to kill him (Harry) as soon as Voldemort came back to life._

_To make sure my friends didn’t die, I rallied Hermione and Sally-Anne to go save them. The professors setup all kinds of challenges for us to bypass. There was a giant three-headed dog, a large tentacle plant, a bunch of flying keys, a magical prison, an interactive chess match, and a logic puzzle! It was a lot of fun! Don’t worry! Nobody died. Except Professor Quirrell, but I promise it wasn’t me. I only turned him to stone, but then Voldemort left his body or something and he died._

_Over the summer, since there aren’t any classes, I’m staying with Hermione and her family. They were really nice to let me stay with them, so I’m being extra careful to be on my best behavior. I’m being very quiet while I craft, and I’m only asking three questions on any given subject. Hermione took me to the library where I read up on Muggle technology. I love it! It’s kinda like alchemy, but it can do so much more! I’m trying to understand it, so maybe I can combine my magic items with their electronics, as they call them._

_Oh, we’re also liberating Harry from his aunt and uncle. Think Sk’lar’s parents, but with less mind games and manipulation. That’s Harry’s aunt and uncle. Also, someone’s getting a house-elf, the magical race enslaved by Magical Humans here, to intercept his mail. So Professor McGonagall and I are going to their house tomorrow to rescue him! It’s gonna be fun!_

_We’re going to bring him to the Burrow, which is where Ronald and his family live. You’d like Mother Weasley; she reminds me a lot of Carolina’s parents. She insisted that I stay for breakfast, and tried to feed me, stopping only after I explained_ veil of undeath _to her. She said that the girls and I could stay over a few nights if we wanted, so we may be living there for a little while._

_Love_ , 

_Rosie_

* * *

**Note:** The fluff with _veil of undeath_ is entirely homebrew. It doesn’t have any _actual_ in-game effects, and the spell only lasts a few minutes without being persisted, so I thought it would add something to make her nearly undead. 


	3. Extracurricular Activities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry is liberated, dinner is consumed, and Rose becomes more excited than Hermione has ever seen her.

**Disclaimer:** One of my extracurricular activities is writing a fanfiction about the Harry Potter universe, which is owned by J.K. Rowling, in case anyone forgot. 

* * *

Petunia Dursley walked over to the door when she heard a knocking the next morning. Who could that be at this hour? 

She opened the door to find an elderly looking woman that looked sort of familiar, although she wasn’t sure why. The woman certainly was dressed strangely, garbed in green robes, although the young girl next to her beat her by a mile in the fancy dress department. 

The freakishly pale girl was dressed in a red cloak and black dress, with goggles on her forehead. She also wore what Petunia thought were welding gloves and large boots. 

_Oh no_ , Petunia thought. _They’re some of_ them, _aren’t they?_

“Good morning, Mrs. Dursley,” the older woman greeted her pleasantly. “My name is Professor Minerva McGonagall, from Hogwarts School of–” 

“ _Get out_ ,” Petunia hissed, her face turning pale. 

“Who is it, Petunia, love?” asked Vernon, joining her at the door. His face turned red the moment he saw who it was. No normal person dressed like either of these freaks, which meant that they were from that wretched school that they sent the boy off to in September. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, I’m here to talk about your nephew,” Minerva tried again. 

“Get off of my property!” shouted Vernon. “Neither of you are welcome here!” 

Minerva had anticipated this. She knew how these two were; she had heard about them from Harry’s parents. It was going to be difficult to get their feet in the door, which was precisely why Peta-Lorrum was here with her. 

“It has come to my attention that your treatment of Harry is less than ideal,” Minerva said sternly. “I have come here to verify this.” 

“You are not welcome–” 

“You said that already,” the little girl said in a Scottish accent. “If we can’t come inside, then we’ll have to wait here until you let us. How many people do you think will pass by this house in that time? Won’t it seem odd when we start shouting your names?” 

Vernon’s face started turning violet as he realized that the girl had a point. He needed to maintain his reputation, and he couldn’t be seen talking to these freaks! 

“Leave, or I’ll call the police!” 

<Ref, what are ‘police’?>

<Law enforcement, I think. Their purpose will be to remove you from the premises.>

<Yeah, _that’s_ gonna happen. >

“Law enforcement has already been notified, Mr. Dursley,” Professor McGonagall informed him. “They have been informed that a child is being abused in this household. Which would you prefer? Us to search for Harry, whom you know to keep things quiet, or the police, which will surely draw more attention to themselves than we will.” 

Vernon looked like he was going to explode. His reputation would be history if people saw the police searching his house, and it would be irreparable if people found out about that _boy_. 

“Fine,” he said through gritted teeth. 

He moved aside to allow the freaks access to his private property. 

“Rose? Professor?” 

They looked up the stairs that were next to the door and saw Harry looking down at them. Minerva was horrified by what she saw. It had been nearly a month since she had last seen Potter, but the boy was _awful_. He was pale, thin, and wearing clothes that fit him worse than the ones he usually wore. 

She turned to face Harry’s “caretakers”. 

“How often do you feed him?” she asked calmly, working hard to control her rage. 

“That’s none of your business!” shouted Vernon. 

“On the contrary, it _is_ my business, Mr. Dursley,” Minerva said, raising her voice. “How you care for that boy became my business last year when he began school at Hogwarts! If he is _not_ well-cared for, then I am well within my rights according to _your_ laws to remove him from the premises and place him in the care of individuals that will actually _care for him_!” 

Rose walked up the stairs to join Harry while Professor McGonagall chewed out his aunt and uncle with what must have been a Natural Twenty on her Intimidation Check. 

“We’re here to bust you out of this joint,” Rose whispered. “Where are your things?” 

“Locked in the cupboard under the basement,” Harry replied. “Can you get them out?” 

“Easily,” Rose said, grinning. 

She walked back down the stairs, arriving at the cupboard while the shouting match continued near her. 

“Get away from there!” Harry’s uncle shouted at her, grabbing her arm. 

Rose calmly looked down at the fist closed around her arm, then up at the face that owned the fist. She grinned, and her goggles turned red. 

“You’re in my personal space,” she said, grabbing his wrist. 

Vernon Dursley began to shout at the girl, but stopped when he saw her hand glowing orange. The next thing he knew, he was lifted off his feet and hurled through the air. He sailed through his living room, landing with a THUD! on the floor. 

Petunia stared in shock as her husband was thrown across the room by the little girl. She could hardly believe her eyes. Petunia was almost certain that those freaks needed wands for their tricks, but she hadn’t seen the girl use one. 

Rose turned back to the cupboard door. She spread her feet apart as she had seen Carolina do many times, closed her eyes, and inhaled. Her eyes snapped open, and she exhaled, throwing herself at the door, her fist outstretched. 

A cloud of dust and debris rose up around what used to be a door. As it settled, Minerva and Petunia saw Rose standing in the ruins, shoveling Harry’s belongings into a large black hole that appeared on her person. 

“Who is that?” Petunia asked. 

Vernon climbed to his feet, his head reeling as he attempted to comprehend what had just happened. A four foot girl that couldn’t weigh more than 50 pounds had just launched him across his living room, and then proceeded to break down the cupboard door with her bare fist. What sort of freak _was_ she? 

“That?” Minerva replied. “That’s Rose Peta-Lorrum.” Rose curtsied instinctively. “She’s a friend of Harry’s who can come and go as she pleases. Even _I_ can’t stop her. Rose uses her magic to appear anywhere she likes and find people wherever they are in the world. She was quite worried about Harry, so she asked to come along to help him. I think she said something about coming by every day from now until the start of term to make sure he was being treated well.” 

Vernon and Petunia looked at the woman in horror, then turned to the little girl, who gave them a grin that fit a villain in a film, or someone who had just escaped the madhouse. 

“So is there a problem with us taking the young Mr. Potter?” Minerva asked, a hint of smugness in her voice. 

“Take him,” Vernon growled. “Suits us better, anyway.” 

Rose beamed and skipped toward the door, while Minerva waved her wand to repair to broken cupboard. 

Together, Harry and Rose packed up the rest of his things, including his owl Hedwig, and they all left Number Four Privet Drive. 

* * *

Sally-Anne was pacing around nervously, accompanied by Mrs. Weasley. 

“I think everyone needs to calm down,” Mr. Weasley said, noticing that Ron and Hermione were also looking a tad antsy. “They’ll be back any minute now with Harry. You’ll see.” 

“They’re taking an awful long time,” Sally-Anne said. “What if there was a problem? What if–” 

“We’re home!” 

Rose, Harry, and Professor McGonagall were greeted by the entire Weasley clan, Sally-Anne, and Hermione. 

“I’m so glad you’re alright,” Sally-Anne said, her face lighting up to see her friend. 

“Are you hungry?” Mrs. Weasley asked, seeing that he was almost as pale as the girl whose heart apparently didn’t beat. 

“A little, actually,” he said. “I wouldn’t want to–” 

Just like she had done with Rose the previous day, Molly whisked the boy away to the table, depositing a stack of sandwiches in front of him. After realizing that Harry was gone, everyone else relocated themselves to the table. 

“Will you be joining us for lunch, Minerva?” Molly asked, distributing plates around the table. 

“I would rather return to my holiday, but thank you for the invitation, Molly.” Minerva turned to Rose. “Ms. Peta-Lorrum, seeing as how it was your plan that got me here, I would ask that you bring me back.” 

“Are you ready to go now?” the girl asked. 

“Yes,” Minerva replied, picking up the bag she had left at the Burrow. “I’m–” 

The next thing Minerva knew, she was back on the porch, looking out at the field. 

“Minerva!” her friend Milly gasped. “You startled me!” 

“I’m a little surprised to be back so soon as well,” Minerva said, looking around. She filed away under “important” that not only could Peta-Lorrum move herself nearly at will, but other people as well. 

“How’d you get back?” Milly asked. “Portkey?” 

“I’m honestly not sure,” Minerva replied. 

Minerva sat down and mentally cataloged what she knew about the strange girl. She could find people anywhere in the world after having met them once; it was how she had known where to find Harry at first, or so she had told Minerva that morning. Peta-Lorrum could move herself and other people around seemingly at will, unhindered by an anti-apparition ward. 

What was the extent of the girl’s unique magic? Were there limits to her abilities? There must be something. The only weakness in the girl that Minerva had observed was her apparent sensitivity to sound. 

The pale girl was immune to poison at least, and breezed through Transfigurations class. Who was she? _What_ was she? 

Whoever or whatever she was, she had earned the trust of Albus, so she couldn’t be too bad. 

Minerva decided that Peta-Lorrum wasn’t her problem until September. Having decided this, Minerva slumped back into a chair, and she and Milly enjoyed the morning air. 

* * *

That evening, Sally-Anne’s parents were the first to arrive. Her mum had a tendency to show up early to any event, although 15 minutes this time wasn’t so bad. Normally it was 30 minutes minimum. 

“Sorry, we’re late,” Sarah said to Mrs. Weasley. 

“Not at all! In fact, you’re early!” Molly replied to her guest. 

“But by _her_ clock, we’re late,” said Wilfred. “Thank you for inviting us.” He extended his hand. “Wilfred Perks. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

“Molly Weasley,” she replied, then motioned to her husband, who was approaching them. “And this is my husband, Arthur.” 

“Wonderful to meet you both,” Arthur said, shaking both of their hands. 

“Sarah Perks,” Sarah added. “Nice to meet you.” 

“Come inside, come inside,” Molly said, ushering the pair into her house. “Please, make yourselves at home. The children are all out back playing.” 

Neither of them had been sure what to expect at the home of magic users, but it didn’t look that different from any other house. Sure, there were strange odds and ends, but most houses had some. What interested Sarah the most was the clock on the wall. It didn’t have the time, but instead had different conditions, such as “traveling”, “mortal danger”, and “home”. At that moment, most of the hands were pointing at home, because each hand had a different name on it. 

“Wonderful, isn’t it?” asked Molly, noticing her guest eyeing the clock. “It’s been in the family for generations. Arthur and I can’t figure out how to add conditions to it, just names.” 

“That’s the important part, isn’t it?” Sarah asked. 

“Of course,” replied Molly. She glanced over at one of the many pictures of her children that were on the wall, and noticed that it had been tilted. 

“Third one today,” she huffed, fixing the picture. “Someone keeps tilting them. Probably one or both of the Twins.” 

“You said the children are out back?” Wilfred asked. 

“Last I checked,” Arthur replied. “I think the boys were playing a few rounds of Quidditch.” 

“Isn’t that the game Harry was playing when he almost got thrown off his broom?” Wilfred asked. 

“WHAT?!” shrieked Molly. 

“Your children didn’t tell you?” Sarah asked. “Last November, Sally-Anne said someone jinxed his broom to try to throw him off. It turned out to be Professor Quirrell. Sally-Anne told us Hermione and Rose stopped him.” 

“No one tells me anything anymore,” grumbled Molly, leading them through the house to the back door. 

In the air were Harry, Ron, Fred, and George. The boys were throwing around a Quaffle and using trees as goal posts. An irritable looking Ginny was pouting on the sidelines, not being allowed to play with them _again_. Hermione and Sally-Anne were talking, and Rose was wandering around the yard. 

“Rose isn’t so bad,” Hermione said. “It was better at Hogwarts, though, since she had the entire castle to wander about in when she got bored. Now all she’s got is my house, and I’m worried that she’s going to start trying to redecorate it or something.” 

“I’m sure it’ll be alright,” Sally-Anne said. “If you need, my parents and I might be able to take her for a few days.” 

“That’s alright,” Hermione replied. “She’s–” 

“BOYS!” 

Everyone looked up when they heard Mrs. Weasley shouting. 

“Uh oh,” Ron said. He knew that tone of voice. It meant _someone_ was in a lot of trouble. He just prayed that it wasn’t him. 

The boys landed their brooms and all dismounted. They realized that it might be a mistake when Mrs. Weasley rushed over to them and hugged Harry. 

“Why didn’t anyone tell me that Harry nearly died playing Quidditch?!” she exclaimed, still hugging Harry tightly enough that no danger would come to him. “What else haven’t you told me?!” 

“Erm,” Ron began. “Let’s see, the troll, the dragon–” 

“Dragon?!” exclaimed the Twins and Mrs. Weasley. 

“When was that?” Fred asked. 

“Hallowe’en,” replied Ron. “It was with the troll.” 

“Why didn’t you say anything?!” gasped Mrs. Weasley as Sally-Anne’s parents snuck around them to get to their daughter. 

“You told us all about the troll,” George said. 

“You left out the dragon,” Fred added. 

“No, _Rose_ left out the dragon,” Harry said, still getting crushed by Mrs. Weasley. “Remember?” 

The Twins turned to Rose, who was apparently conversing with the grass. 

“Which reminds me,” Ron said, “I’ve been meaning to ask Charlie about it. I tried looking it up in the Library, but I couldn’t find anything that looked like it.” 

“Please tell me you at least told her about the Philosopher’s Stone,” Hermione said, coming up behind them. 

“ _Everyone_ told us about the Philosopher’s Stone,” Mr. Weasley said. “It was all anyone talked about for weeks at the Ministry. Word had spread that five Gryffindors had fought off He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, but accounts varied. Of course, Fudge won’t admit that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named could ever come back.” 

“Of course not,” Mrs. Perks said. “No sane politician wants it to be known that the world ended on _their_ watch.” 

“Where are my manners,” Molly said, releasing her honorary son. “I believe introductions are in order.” She nudged her boys. 

“Ron.” 

“Fred.” 

“George.” 

“They’re lying!” Rose called. “He’s Fred, and he’s George.” 

“It makes no difference,” Wilfred said, smiling. “I’m not going to be able to tell them apart regardless.” He turned to the boy with the lightning bolt scar on his forehead. “And you must be Harry. It’s a pleasure to meet you all.” 

“Why don’t we all go inside?” Mrs. Weasley suggested. “We can all get ready for supper. I’m sure Hermione’s parents will be here soon.” 

As they all walked inside, Rose glanced over and noticed a girl with pale blond hair standing at the edge of the yard. She was staring up at the sky, transfixed on something. After glancing up and not seeing anything, Rose made a note to find out who she was later. 

* * *

Half an hour later, fifteen people had gathered around the dinner table. An impressive feat, since Sally-Anne was pretty sure that the table wasn’t big enough for everyone earlier. 

“Molly, Arthur, what do you two do for a living?” Dan Granger asked as he was filling his plate. 

“Professional housewife,” replied Molly. “I’ve nearly perfected the art.” 

“I work at the Ministry, in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office,” he replied. 

“What’s that mean?” Emma asked. 

“It’s my job to keep any items that have been bewitched out of Muggle hands,” Arthur said. 

“He doesn’t just work at the office,” said Ron. “He’s in charge of it.” 

“How’s that legislation going, Dad?” asked Percy, who, for what might have been the first time in days, was out of his room. 

“Quite well, Percy.” 

“Is that the Muggle Protection Act?” asked Rose. 

Arthur turned to look at her. “How do you know that?” 

“Her imaginary friend told her,” Hermione said, beating Rose to the punch. 

“He can read minds,” Sally-Anne added. 

Arthur gave a confused look to his children, hoping one of them would explain. 

“She’s like the Lovegoods, Dad,” Ron said. 

“Oh, she’s one of _them_ ,” Arthur said. 

“Who are the Lovegoods?” Harry whispered to Ron. 

“I’ll tell you later.” 

“Anyway, it’s looking like the legislation will get passed without problems, despite the fit Lucius has been throwing.” 

“Malfoy _would_ ,” Ron muttered. 

“Is Lucius related to Draco?” asked Rose. Unlike the other fourteen people at the dinner table, she was free to speak, unhindered by food. 

“Lucius Malfoy is Draco Malfoy’s father,” Molly Weasley said with thinly veiled contempt. 

“Isn’t that the boy that nearly got you girls killed last year?” Dan asked, his anger apparent in his voice. 

“No, that was the troll,” Rose said. “But I can understand how you could confuse the two. They do look awfully similar.” 

Fred and George, who had placed themselves on either side of Rose, snickered. 

“No surprise, Drakey’s father is a politician,” Rose said. “Let me guess: Lucy is the Emperor’s Chief Vizier.” 

Everyone stared at Rose. 

“What?” Arthur asked. 

“Rose, there _isn’t_ an ‘Emperor’,” Hermione said. 

“Does she mean the Minister of Magic?” Arthur asked. “Because Malfoy _does_ have a strong pull in the Ministry.” 

“Has he got a goatee?” Rose asked, narrowing her eyes. 

“No, he’s just got long, straight, blonde hair,” Arthur said. 

“Interesting,” muttered Rose as she wrote down something in her notebook. 

“Enough about politics,” Arthur said. “What about all of you? What do you do?” 

“Dan and I are dentists,” Emma said. After receiving confused looks from the Weasleys, she added, “That’s a doctor that works on teeth.” 

“Interesting,” Arthur said. “How exactly can you work on teeth without magic?” 

“It’s very delicate work,” Dan said. Eyeing the boys at the table, he added, “And painful.” 

Hermione’s face turned a faint shade of red. Her dad was overly protective of her, and he got worse after she went off to Hogwarts last year. While it didn’t matter to her _now_ , she was sure that she was going to start caring soon that her dad was frightening off any potential boyfriends. Although, thinking about it, Rose would probably do the same without even trying. 

Rose grinned and began snickering. 

“Something funny, Rose?” Emma asked her. 

“Carolina’s dad gave Sk’lar that exact same look the first time they met.” 

“Who are all these people you keep mentioning?” Wilfred asked her. 

Hermione exchanged glances with Rose. She figured Rose would know better than to go on about her family with people that might actually take her seriously. 

“It’s a long story,” Rose said. 

Hermione caught Sally-Anne’s attention. 

“ _Help,_ ” she mouthed. 

“Speaking of stories, Dad, any news from the front?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“All the bad drama is over,” her dad said. “We’ve got our Macduff back, and the show can go on.” 

Hermione smiled at Sally-Anne, and mouthed “Thank you.” Sally-Anne replied with a subtle “You’re welcome.” 

“So you do theatre work?” asked Dan. 

“Technical Director,” Wilfred said, nodding. “We’ve been pretty busy lately, since the annual Shakespeare Festival is coming up soon. Our Macduff got into a fight with one of the other actors, and we nearly lost him.” 

“I saw one of the fliers for that the other day,” Emma said. “Macbeth, right?” 

“Right. They’ve been practicing almost non-stop for the past few weeks. Fortunately for me, I don’t need to be at _every_ rehearsal.” 

“When are they performing it?” Dan asked Wilfred. 

“The first of August,” he replied. “Just a few weeks from now.” 

“Oh, alright,” Dan said. “Would you mind if we went to see the show?” 

“That sounds like a wonderful idea!” 

“If it’s not for another two weeks, then we should be able to go,” Dan said. “We’re going camping next weekend, so I was just worried it might conflict.” 

Rose, whom Hermione guessed had been spacing out, immediately picked up her head and began to pay attention. “Wait, what? Camping? Camping when? Camping where?” 

Not for the first time during the meal, the adults in the group turned to look at Rose. 

“Don’t look at me like that, you heard what he said,” Rose said. “Camping!” 

“I don’t know why you’re all looking like that,” Hermione said, ignoring her friend. “This isn’t _remotely_ the strangest thing she’s done.” 

“Not even the strangest thing she’s done _today_ ,” muttered Harry, thinking back to earlier that day when Rose had thrown Uncle Vernon across the room with one hand. 

“Seriously, what was that about camping?” Rose asked. 

“Well, in that case,” Molly Weasley said, putting them back on topic. “Why don’t we all go see the show? Then afterwards, the children can all come back here and spend the night? I’ll make up some spare beds for the girls in Ginny’s room.” 

“That sounds like a good idea,” Emma said, thankful to have the strange crimson-haired girl off their hands for a few days. She was grateful to Rose for everything she’d done for Hermione, but Dan and Emma had agreed that the girl was beginning to be a bit much for the both of them. 

“That sounds exciting,” Arthur said. “I’ve never been to a Muggle play before. What are they like?” 

“There goes Dad again,” Ron sighed. 

This was nothing new. Arthur Weasley was passionate about his job, and like any person who loved their job, he rambled on about it a lot. For the Weasleys, this was just another rambling, so they all tuned him out, including his wife. 

To the non-Weasleys in the room, this was something new to them, so many of them listened intently. Or, in Rose’s case, she listened to the highlights from Reflectesalon, as she had spaced out once again. 

* * *

Hermione awoke Monday morning to find Rose staring at her from approximately three inches in front of her face. 

“Yes, Rose?” she asked. “You’d like something?” 

“Camping?” 

“Not until Saturday. Sat-ur-day. That means _not today_. Do you understand what Saturday is?” 

“67,172 rounds from now?” 

Hermione did some quick mental math. A round was six seconds if she recalled correctly, which meant that 67,172 rounds was 403,032 seconds, which was 6,717 minutes and 12 seconds. That came out to 111 hours, 57 minutes, and 12 seconds, which was the exact amount of time from when Rose said that until midnight on Saturday. 

“Yes, but please wait a few hours before waking everyone up.” 

“Fine.” Rose began to walk out of Hermione’s room, then poked her head back in the door. “How many hours?” 

“Five o’clock,” Hermione said. “We usually get ready around five o’clock.” 

* * *

Sure enough, 70,170 rounds later, or five o’clock on Saturday morning, Hermione was once again awoken from her sleep by Rose. 

“Wake up!” 

“Ah!” Hermione shouted, jumping in her bed. She instinctively threw a pillow towards the source of the sound. Her parents would sometimes startle her awake, and she had found that the best way to get them to stop was by throwing pillows at them. 

“No, I don’t need a pillow!” exclaimed a Scottish voice. “We need to get _out_ of bed, not _in_ it! It’s time!” 

“Time for what?” Hermione asked her friend groggily. “What time _is_ it?” 

“Camping Time!” 

Rose proceeded to awaken both of Hermione’s parents, who were just as enthusiastic about waking up as Hermione had been. 

As the Grangers got ready, Rose continued to bounce excitedly. Hermione knew Rose was almost always excited about something, but this was new. Hermione had never seen Rose quite _this_ excited before. 

While it was true that they always got ready around five o’clock to go camping for their annual camping trip, they didn’t actually leave until almost seven. This was intentional, designed to give them all time to wake up before getting on the road. 

With Rose moving them along, they were out of the house by six. Dan and Emma did find it fascinating that Rose could clean all three of them with a simple wave of her hand. No wand needed, just a quick wave. 

“ _Prestidigitation_ ,” Rose said. “It’s great. Now come on!” 

* * *

The car ride seemed significantly longer than in past years with Rose talking the entire time. 

Hermione finally got Rose to be quiet by asking her to silently recite all the fifth-level spells she knew. Hermione had chosen five at random, but it seemed to be keeping Rose occupied. 

An hour later, they pulled up to a valley, and Rose looked around wide-eyed. 

“And now the hard part,” Hermione said to Rose, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Hiking.” 

They all hiked uphill for another thirty minutes. It was a long way to their spot, but it was always worth it. 

“Alright, we’re just about there,” Dan said. He looked back at his little girl and wife. _They_ were starting to look tired, like normal people. _Rose_ , on the other hand, was still as exuberant as she had been at five o’clock that morning when she had woken them all up. 

When they got to the field, Rose looked up, and the biggest grin formed on her face. Without warning, she took off running. 

“Rose, wait!” Hermione shouted, but the girl was already running out into the field. 

Rose ran out into the field, spinning around as she ran, taking in the sight of the whole valley around her, no longer obscured from it by the tops of the trees. 

They were in a field with perfectly green grass, surrounded by tall trees that cut off her view of the forest past a few feet. Beyond the trees that promised them protection from all the harm of the outside world were lush, beautiful hills covered in infinitely more trees. The trees turned the hills a beautiful spring green, and stretched far beyond the tops of the hills. Rose turned her head to the sky, and saw the bright, shining sun overhead, casting the shadows of the clouds on the hills as it smiled on them from the skies. 

“Rose!” Hermione panted, catching up to her. 

“Please don’t run off like that,” Mrs. Hermione’s Mum said. 

Rose was still grinning. “Makes you think, doesn’t it?” 

“I’m sorry?” Mr. Hermione’s Dad asked. 

“The hills, the way they stretch out around you,” Rose said, gesturing outwards with her arms. “Makes you feel like you’re part of something. Like with the world behind you, anything’s possible.” 

“I’ve… I’ve never thought about it like that,” Mr. Hermione’s Dad said. 

Once again without warning, Rose threw her head back, cupped her hands around her mouth, and shouted, “Sky above and earth below!” 

“Rose–” Hermione began, but Rose held up her right index finger to Hermione’s lips, with her left index finger to her own lips. 

“Shh!” Rose said. She gazed off into the distance, her smile growing. “Hear that? That’s the sound of the hills, reminding us that we’re never alone.” She turned back to Hermione and her family. “That’s what Alice used to say.” 

“Which one’s Alice again?” Emma whispered to her daughter. 

“Her sister,” Hermione replied. 

“And Carolina says she’s got the biggest family in all of De’rok, because she lives in a forest. She says the trees are her brothers and sisters, and all the animals are her friends.” 

Hermione stared at her friend. She had never seen Rose quite like this. She had seen the pale girl excited, but this was different. 

“I never realized you liked camping so much,” Hermione said. 

“My parents used to take me camping when I was younger,” Rose said, still grinning. “Then my sister started taking me when I was at Arcrel. We even got my brother to come with us once, although he didn’t care for it like we did. At least, not until Carolina joined us. I don’t think I’ve been to a forest or mountain in which she didn’t feel like she was at home.” She glanced at Hermione. “That’s why I call her Saint Nature sometimes. When she came with us, she taught us a prayer from the Guardians of the Green. It was about Father Sky Above and Mother Earth Below, but that doesn’t echo so well.” Rose looked around at the clearing again. “Are we setting up camp here?” 

“Yes,” Dan said. “The entire area here is part of the camping grounds, but most people don’t come up here, since few people want to walk so much just to get to a campsite.” 

“Alright, we can set up camp, then establish a watch once it gets dark,” Rose said. “There are four of us, and no one’s got _rope trick_ prepared, so we’ll watch in shifts of two hours each.” 

The Grangers stared at Rose. 

“I’m sorry?” Emma asked. 

“Silly me,” Rose said. “ _I_ can just take watch.” 

“Alright,” Hermione said. “Glad we’ve got that worked out.” 

* * *

**Note:** “Sky above and Earth below” is a line from the song “Return to Quin” by Scott Carrino. 


	4. The Gift of Giving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which many people receive presents.

**Disclaimer:** J.K. Rowling gave us a great gift by giving us Harry Potter. 

* * *

“Rose, I’ve got a question,” Sally-Anne said. 

For the few days leading up to the play, the Perks family had agreed to let Rose and Hermione stay with them. As well as camping had gone, having a hyperactive girl that didn’t sleep wandering around the house was starting to drive Hermione’s parents mad. Not to mention that they were certain that she was getting up to something, since Dan couldn’t any of his rolls of duct tape that he kept in the house. He always had spares just in case, but all of them had vanished. Initially, he thought he had just ran out, so he bought more, but then those vanished too. 

“What do you need, Sally-Anne?” 

“Harry’s birthday is coming up, and I was wondering if you knew anything to get him.” 

“A picture of his parents,” Rose replied immediately. 

Hermione stared at Rose, who tilted her head in response. 

“What?” Rose asked. 

“You didn’t even need to check your notebook,” Hermione said suspciously. “You _always_ need to check your notebook.” 

“I’ve got a good memory when it comes to people with dead parents,” Rose replied. She turned back to Sally-Anne. “We can go visit Professor Dumbledore at Hogwarts to see if he’s got something.” 

“Slow down, Rose,” Hermione said. “First things first, how do you know he wants a picture of his parents?” 

“Remember how I told you about the Mirror of Erised?” 

“It shows a person whatever they desire most,” Hermione said. “Did Harry see his parents?” 

“Yup! Remember, I told you about it after you got back from break!” 

“I must have forgotten,” Hermione said. “You say a lot of things; it’s hard to keep track of them all.” 

“You should get a notebook!” exclaimed Rose happily. 

“I’ll work on it,” replied Hermione, who had little intention to obtain a notebook any time soon. 

“Why do you think Professor Dumbledore has a picture of them?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“Because I’m almost positive that he knew Harry’s parents,” Rose replied. “He’s got that air about him.” 

Hermione looked at Rose, raising her eyebrows. “Really? That’s your reasoning for going to visit Professor Dumbledore during the summer? A hunch?” 

“Also, Professor McGonagall knew his parents,” Rose said. “Ref told me when we were breaking out Harry, so I can only assume that Professor Dumbledore does as well. If I’m not mistaken, they were students at Hogwarts.” 

“That makes sense, seeing as how it’s the only magical institution in the country,” Hermione said. 

“Are you sure he won’t mind us visiting him?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“It’ll be fine!” 

* * *

Albus was sitting at his desk, contemplating how he could spend the last few weeks of summer. There was hardly a month left until term started, so he wanted to enjoy them. He knew that Harry and his friends were attracting trouble, and had a feeling that this year would be the same as last year. 

Albus had already given up on trying to figure out what was going to happen, although he had made a list of what he suspected might happen. He had also considered circulating the list around the staff to take bets on what would happen this year, but thought that it might be unprofessional, and tip off some of his staff in the event that some of them were going astray. 

He also needed a Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. Once again, Severus was the only one that applied for the job, but he didn’t want to risk losing his Potions Master. Severus was an invaluable asset, not to mention a close friend, and curse or no, there was a definite pattern that indicated that whomever took the job would be gone before the end of the year. 

Rumor had spread that Gilderoy Lockhart was considering taking the job for some free publicity. Now _there_ was a thought; the professor that was chosen sometimes ended up with their worst secrets exposed, otherwise Albus would’ve already asked Remus Lupin, but Lockhart had something he wasn’t telling people. 

There was no way that that outspoken little Ravenclaw he had known grew up to be a monster slayer. If Lockhart was anything, it was charming and clever. Albus was sure that that instead pointed to– 

“Salutations, Professor Dumbledore!” 

Albus left his musings for another day and looked up to see his favorite three Gryffindor girls standing in his office. 

“Hello,” Albus greeted them. “Rose, didn’t I specifically ask you _not_ to come here until September?” 

“No, you said I wasn’t allowed to _live_ here,” Rose replied. “You didn’t say anything about visiting.” 

“Oh. What a strange oversight on my part. How can I help you young ladies?” 

“With Harry’s birthday tomorrow, we were wondering if you could help us get him a present,” Sally-Anne said. 

“I’m sure I can,” Albus replied. “I myself have always enjoyed some nice toffee.” 

“We actually had something specific in mind,” Hermione said. “Erm…” 

“A picture of his parents,” Sally-Anne said. “Rose told us about the Mirror of Erised and said that Harry really wanted a picture of his parents, so I thought it would be nice if we got him one. I think it will cheer him up, especially after everything he’s been through with his aunt and uncle.” 

“Yes, Minerva told me about your rescue mission a few weeks ago,” Professor Dumbledore said, turning to look at Rose. “You could do to be a little more subtle, Rose.” 

“I’m not apologizing,” Rose said. “His uncle was in my personal space, and that door was in my way. So I fixed it!” Rose beamed. “I can fix anything!” 

“So you’ve mentioned,” Albus said. “But you were right in your assumption that I have something for the young Mr. Potter.” 

Albus reached into one of the many drawers in his desk and pulled out a chest. From that chest, he produced _another_ chest, from which he took a small desk. From one of the drawers in _that_ desk, he took a picture frame, and handed it to Sally-Anne. 

Sally-Anne looked at the picture in the frame. Looking back at her were two people. One was a man that looked like an older version of Harry, and the other was a woman with brown hair that fell just past her shoulders. They both smiled warmly at the dirty-blonde girl. 

“I meant to give him that at the end of last term,” Professor Dumbledore said, “but it slipped my mind somehow.” 

“Don’t you just hate it when that happens?” Rose asked. 

“Quite,” Albus replied to the reason that he had forgotten. 

“I find a notebook helps!” 

“Aren’t you worried that you’ll run out of space?” 

“Nope!” Rose replied simply. “If I do, I’ll just get a new one!” 

“Of course,” Albus said. He didn’t know for sure, but he assumed that Rose would probably _make_ herself a new one if she needed. “Will that be all?” 

“Well, if you’re asking, then–” Rose began. 

“Yes, Sir,” Sally-Anne said quickly, hoping to stop Rose before she got carried away asking questions. Sally-Anne looked down at the picture in her hand, then added, “Thank you, Sir.” 

“You are most welcome, Sally-Anne.” 

Rose pulled her _staff of passage_ (Albus was pleased with how well he remembered the names of the girl’s belongings) out of her quiver, and the three of them disappeared from the Headmaster’s office, leaving Albus to return to his thoughts. 

* * *

Saturday night, they all met up at the Burrow. It was out of everyone’s way, but since it was the first Muggle play the Weasleys had attended, it was agreed that they should meet up first. 

On the way there, Hermione and Sally-Anne made sure to explain to Rose that it was just pretend, and that she should sit quietly in her seat during the entire performance. 

“Don’t get out of your chair unless you see us getting up too,” Hermione said. “Do you understand?” 

“Yes,” Rose replied, smiling. 

“Repeat it back to me,” Hermione said. 

“‘Don’t get out of your chair unless you see us getting up too.’” 

“ _Your_ chair, Rose,” Sally-Anne said. 

“Hermione just told me to repeat it back to her.” 

“Do you understand?” Hermione repeated. 

“Yes,” Rose said. “Just pretend, don’t try to participate.” 

“Right,” Hermione said. 

“Hey, Rose, what did _you_ get Harry for his birthday?” Sally-Anne asked, hoping to change the subject. 

When Sally-Anne was wrapping and signing her present to Harry, Sally-Anne had originally planned to have her two friends sign it, but Rose had told her not to sign Rose’s name as part of it. Instead, Rose was now holding a small box wrapped in red wrapping paper. 

“ _Gloves of dexterity_.” 

“Which are…?” Hermione prompted. 

“They’ll increase his Dexterity! He has to have fast reflexes in Quidditch, so I figured he’d appreciate me improving them!” 

They arrived at the Burrow a few minutes later, and the five of them were greeted by Mrs. Weasley at the door. 

“Happy birthday, Harry,” Sally-Anne said, handing him the wrapped picture. 

Harry was almost startled. This was the first birthday he could remember getting actual presents, rather than just orders from the Dursleys. He had already been spoiled by Mrs. Weasley the previous night, and now his friends had got him something. He noticed Rose holding a second present, beaming away in her usual cheerful manner. 

“It’s from Sally-Anne and I,” Hermione said. 

Harry hastily unwrapped the present, staring in amazement when he finished. 

It was a picture of two people, a man and a woman. The man looked a lot like him, and the woman smiled back at him with eyes that looked like his. He had seen them both before in the Mirror of Erised. It was a picture of his parents. 

Harry stared at it for what must’ve been hours (But in reality, was a minute), then turned to look at his friends. 

“We went to visit Professor Dumbledore,” Hermione said. “He gave it to us to give to you. Rose said you’d–” 

Harry cut off his friend with a hug, wrapping his arms as best he could around both girls, a feat made easier by them standing next to one another. 

“Thank you,” he said. 

Sally-Anne gladly returned the hug, as did Hermione, albeit more hesitantly. 

“You’re welcome, Harry,” Sally-Anne replied. 

“What a wonderful gesture, girls,” Mrs. Weasley said. 

The three children moved apart, and Harry returned to staring at his parents. 

“Don’t worry, Harry,” Mr. Weasley said. “They’ll be here when you get back. I think Rose has something for you, too.” 

Harry looked away from the picture of his parents to see Rose holding a red box up to him. 

“Happy birthday!” 

Harry set the picture down on the table and unwrapped the present, although with less enthusiasm. It wasn’t that he wasn’t grateful, but instead that his mind was on the picture he now had. He could see his parents, even if it was just a picture. 

Harry opened the box to find a pair of black, fingerless gloves inside. In fact, they closely resembled his Quidditch gloves, which he realized he hadn’t been able to find the other day. 

“Are these my Quidditch gloves?” he asked. 

“Modified, but yes,” Rose said. “Sorry about taking them. I enchanted them to improve your Dexterity!” 

“Thank you,” Harry said. 

“Rose, use of magic is forbidden in Quidditch matches,” Mr. Weasley said. 

Harry’s heart sank. He knew he wasn’t allowed to pull out his wand in the middle of a match, but he didn’t realize that magic wasn’t allowed to be used at all. Did that mean he wasn’t allowed to use his glasses either? Rose had modified them to improve his ability to see, and, as he had learned, hear, so did that make _them_ magic? Wait, what about their brooms? Did they count as well? Suddenly, the rules of Quidditch didn’t make any sense to him. 

Harry started to panic. He loved Quidditch. No matter how bad things got, he could always grab a broom and kick off into the sky, leaving all of his troubles beneath him. Quidditch made sense to him, and it was comforting to know that. It was his escape from life, but now he was starting to question it. Why couldn’t everyone just leave him be? Was happiness a luxury he just couldn’t afford? Why did they have to take this away from him?! 

“Well, then, it’s a good thing that no one can detect the magic on them, nor can anyone prove I enchanted them!” Rose exclaimed. 

“But you just said you did,” Mr. Perks said. 

“No, I didn’t!” Rose said. “I will neither confirm nor deny that those gloves are now a pair of _gloves of dexterity +2_.” 

The Twins grinned, and, as soon as no one could see them, each gave Rose a thumbs up. 

In spite of all the trouble that Rose had caused, this time, Harry was on her side. He glanced down at the picture of his parents and smiled. _They_ wouldn’t try to take this away from him. 

“I wouldn’t bet on no one being able to detect the magic on those,” Mr. Weasley said. “Especially at Hogwarts. Either Professor Vector or Professor Dumbledore are going to be able to figure it out.” 

“Besides, not even _your_ enchantments will last forever,” Percy said. “That’s just how magic works.” 

“Rose doesn’t mean a normal enchantment,” Hermione said. “It’s difficult to explain, but it’s not technically magic.” 

“Oi!” Rose exclaimed. “What do you–” 

<I’m making your case!> Hermione pathed to Rose, having slipped her hand in her pocket for the _seashell_. 

“It’s like a kind of trick,” Sally-Anne added, picking up on Hermione’s reasoning. “She calls it enchanting, but it’s really not.” 

“It’s just easier for Rose to call it enchanting,” Hermione said. 

“But it’s not magic,” Ron said. 

“It’s like she just made the gloves lighter so his hands can move faster.” 

“Which is more like alchemy than anything.” 

“And, since it doesn’t qualify as magic, it should be perfectly legal to use those gloves during a Quidditch match,” Hermione concluded. 

Both Arthur and Molly eyed the girls suspiciously. None of it made sense to them, but then again, few things the crimson-haired girl said made sense. 

“It still feels like cheating,” Arthur said. “And you know what they say about when something feels like cheating.” 

“Yes,” Rose replied. “You’ve just got to persuade the DM that it’s acceptable, and it’s fine.” 

“Actually, I was going to say ‘It probably is.’” 

“Dad, it’s the difference between a Nimbus 2000 and a Nimbus 2001,” Ron said. “Both of them are legal, but the team with the Nimbus 2001 is going to have an advantage over the other team with the Nimbus 2000.” 

“If you’re still uncertain, I invite you to take it up with Professor Snape,” Rose said. “I’m sure he’s subjected that pendant I gave him to every test known to magic!” 

“You… gave Professor _Snape_ a pendant?” Arthur asked. “Professor _Snape_?” 

“Yup! He and I are friends!” 

Molly and Arthur stared at the girl. _No_ student was friends with Professor Snape. Most of the _staff_ didn’t care for him. 

“Really?” asked Molly. 

“In Rose’s mind, yes,” Hermione said. 

“Just nod,” Ron said. 

Molly and Arthur exchanged looks, then both nodded hesitantly at the girl. 

“That’s nice, Dear,” Molly said. 

As they all went outside, Harry whispered to his friends. “Thank you.” 

“For the gifts?” Rose asked. “You already said ‘Thank you’.” 

“No, not that,” he said. “For defending the gloves. I was starting to get confused about the rules of Quidditch.” 

“The rules specifically state that no ‘magically enhanced equipment’ is allowed to be used,” Ron said. “But like Rose said, she can’t use ‘magic’, so those gloves aren’t ‘magical’.” 

“Of course, we just couldn’t say that to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley,” Hermione said, surprised by how well Ron had kept up with them. 

“Still, thanks,” Harry said. 

“Don’t mention it, Mate,” Ron said. 

Hermione glanced over at the red-head. The arguments that he had made earlier were impressive, and had probably made the difference between Harry being allowed to use the gloves in a match and not. She knew he was good at strategy, but she always assumed that he would be a slow thinker. 

“Ron, that was impressive the way you came up with those arguments,” Hermione said. 

“Huh?” Ron said. “Oh, that? Thanks, I guess. That just popped into my head, and I thought ‘Dad will buy this, let’s try it.’” 

Rose made a quick note in her notebook. Not only could Ronald strategize well enough to impress her brother, but he could also think quickly on his feet. He was going to be a good leader someday. Rose just had to figure out how to push that along. 

* * *

“I think that went well,” Sally-Anne said on their way out of the theatre later that night. 

“I’m glad we thought to inform Rose that it was all pretend,” Hermione said. 

Sally-Anne was glad that everyone had enjoyed the play, but best of all was Mr. Weasley’s reaction to it. 

“Extraordinary,” he said as they left the theatre. “Simply wonderful! I didn’t realize that Muggles were capable of such things. What did you call them again?” 

“They’re called ‘special effects’,” Wilfred explained. “It’s just a trick, really, but they enhance the play, and, as you saw, bring it to life.” 

“Fascinating!” 

As they were walking, Dan finally remembered what it was about which he had wanted to talk with Rose. He caught up with the crimson-haired girl, and said, “Rose, we found your project in the closet.” 

“The duct tape golem?” she asked. 

“Is _that_ what it’s supposed to be?” he asked. 

“All that’s left is to animate it!” she exclaimed. “And then it’ll be done!” 

“Rose, you can’t just make something like that,” Dan said, hoping he understood what she meant by “golem”. “If people see it, then it’ll mean trouble for us.” 

“Don’t worry,” Rose said. “It won’t talk, it’s strong, and it will listen to your every order. Also, since the duct tape is still fairly malleable, it should be able to fold away!” 

“Why did you leave it in the closet instead of taking it with you?” Hermione asked, having overheard the conversation. “Why not use your _portable hole_?” 

“I figured that your parents would want to know what had happened to all of their duct tape!” 

Dan and his daughter let out identical sighs. 

“You could’ve just told us,” Dan said. 

“Oh, yeah, _that’s_ just as much fun,” Rose said. 

When the girls returned to the Burrow, there were beds laid out for all of them. It was cramped in Ginny’s room, at least until the bed laid out for Rose was packed away. It had taken some work on her part, but Rose was able to convince Mother Weasley that she honestly didn’t need to sleep, and even if she did, Rose had her own bedroll she could use. 

Rose spent the night outside gazing at the stars. It was easier to see them at the Burrow than at Hogwarts, and the cool night air reminded her of the good old days when she would go adventuring with her friends. Back when creating a golem out of whatever materials were lying around wasn’t considered wrong, and you didn’t usually get accused of cheating just for making a magic item. 

_What’s wrong with everyone here?_

* * *

The next morning, the entire group, along with Hermione’s and Sally-Anne’s parents, went shopping for school supplies. Everything went smoothly, which was making Hermione suspicious. Things _never_ went this smoothly, so what was going to happen to make it worse? 

“What’s going on there?” Sally-Anne asked, indicating a crowd of people outside of Flourish and Blotts. 

“Didn’t you hear?” Mrs. Weasley asked eagerly. “Gilderoy Lockhart’s doing a signing for his new book!” 

“He is?!” gasped Hermione. 

“He’s real?!” exclaimed Rose. 

“Of _course_ he’s real!” groaned Hermione. “Haven’t you read his books?” 

“Yeah, but I thought he was just made up.” 

“Really?” asked Ron. “ _You_ of all people?” 

“Yeah, why?” 

“We need to go there to get books anyway,” Mr. Weasley said. “Why don’t we all go?” 

Once inside, Mrs. Weasley and Hermione waited in line to have their books signed, while the others collected books for school. 

It was then that something occurred to Sally-Anne that she hadn’t realized until that point. 

“Rose, who’s buying your books?” she asked her friend, noticing that Rose didn’t have anything. 

“No one.” 

Rose looked at the title of one of the books on a shelf, and, after reading the title, tapped the book. 

“Then how are you getting them?” 

“I’m not.” 

“What about the rest of your supplies?” 

“Why would I need more supplies?” 

“For school.” 

“I’m just going to make them,” Rose replied simply, tapping another book. 

“But–” 

“I would like to announce that I, Gilderoy Lockhart, will be taking over as Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!” 

Rose’s notebook was out in an instant, and she scribbled down this new information. She also made several notes regarding his appearance, and a reminder to herself to ask Hermione for all the books she had on this guy. Before, he had been just another name; _now_ , he was relevant to the Plot. Not just that, he was now the only unknown professor at Hogwarts, which made him a prime suspect should anything go wrong. 

Sally-Anne noticed that the Lockhart guy had pulled Harry in for a photo op, even though Harry didn’t look all too comfortable with it. 

After Harry was allowed to leave, Sally-Anne approached him. 

“Are you alright?” 

“I’m fine,” he said quickly. 

“You can’t go five feet without making a scene, can you, Potter?” 

They turned toward the familiar voice to find Draco standing in the door to Flourish and Blotts. Accompanying him was a tall man with blonde hair that reached down well past his shoulders. 

“Shut up, Malfoy!” Harry shot back. 

“Now, boys,” Mr. Weasley said as the group moved toward the front of the store. “Let’s be civil about this.” 

“Of course you would try to divert a fight you can’t possibly win, Arthur,” the man accompanying Draco said. 

His voice was smooth and cold, and there was a permanent look of contempt on his face. He was arrogant and aloof, and reminded Rose way too much of Sk’lar’s predecessor, Professor Seelahs, not to mention at least half of the Elves she had met at Arcrel. 

“Lucius, we’re just having a family shopping trip. We don’t want any trouble.” 

“Of course,” Lucius said. “It’s a wonder though that you can even afford _secondhand_ books, given the rubbish you’ve been passing off as legislation.” 

Ron clenched his fists. Where did this jerk get off insulting his dad like that? 

Dan muttered something under his breath that would’ve got him a look from his wife had he said it out loud. The man’s son had nearly got his little girl _killed_ , not to mention had made her terrified to be alone in the hallways of her own school, and now he was acting like _they_ were in the wrong. 

“How do you get your hair like that?” 

Rose had taken her own approach to getting even with Malfoy Senior, which took the form of inspecting his hair at close quarters. No one was quite sure when or how she got a stack of books under her, but she was standing on one while holding up some locks of Malfoy’s hair. 

“It’s not greasy like Butter-Head’s down there. This is nice! Is this real?” 

“I beg your pardon?” Lucius said coolly, shifting away from Rose. He didn’t jump, but almost glided away from her. It was as if he practiced not showing emotions other than contempt. 

_He’s like a well-kept version of Professor Snape_ , Hermione thought. Were _all_ Slytherin alumni like this? 

“I was just admiring your hair, Goldilocks,” Rose said, jumping down from her stack of books. 

“Ridiculous crimson hair, annoying Scottish accent, and bizarre clothing,” Lucius muttered. “ _You_ must be Rose Peta-Lorrum.” 

Rose curtsied. “The one and only!” She mimicked the contempt on Lucius’s face. “And I’ll have you know that people have told me that my hair is _pretty_.” 

Goldilocks glanced over at Hermione, then back to Rose. “Perhaps compared to _some_ people.” 

“I saw that,” Rose said, her I’m-going-to-kill-you-now smile appearing on her face. “Did you just insult my best friend, Goldilocks?” 

“Isn’t someone going to stop her?” Emma whispered. “Before she gets into trouble?” 

“Let’s see how this plays out,” Dan replied. 

He and Emma were starting to go out of their minds dealing with the crimson-haired girl all summer. She was slowly driving them mad _without_ trying. They both understood that the girl was _trying_ to be polite, but she still didn’t understand their way of doing things. Their daughter insisted this was due to Rose living on her own for so long. Dan was a little curious to see how bad she got when she _did_ try, especially if the target was the father of the boy who had caused Hermione such misery at Hogwarts. 

“I see your choice in friends is as bad as your choice in clothing,” Lucius drawled. 

“This coming from the man who used to wear a black cloak and skull mask?” Rose shot back at the man. 

“Excuse me?” 

“Don’t give me that, you used to run with Volds, whose followers wore _extremely_ tacky black cloaks and skull masks.” 

“She’s got a concept of ‘tacky’?” Dan whispered to Hermione. 

“Apparently.” 

“You’ve apparently done your research, but if you had read the records more closely, you’d know that I was controlled for my position in the Ministry.” 

“Of course,” Rose said. “But you know, my friend Shadow once told me the only difference between an actor and a politician is that actors _admit_ that they’re paid to lie. Politicians just lie about lying.” 

“Someone should teach you some manners, little girl, before something bad happens to you.” 

“That sounded like a threat, but I’m sure you didn’t mean for it to come out that way,” the mudblood said. “So tell you what? Before this gets out of hand, why don’t we both just walk away? That way, nobody wins, and nobody loses. What do you say, Mr. Malfoy?” 

Hermione held her breath waiting to see what happened. She knew what Rose would do if a fight broke out, and there were a lot of innocent bystanders that might get caught in the crossfire. Rose was _usually_ careful, but Hermione still remembered an incident last year after Rose had allegedly trapped Slytherin in their common room that ended up with Neville in a full-body bind. 

Hermione glanced over her shoulder and saw Lockhart standing back from the action. Why didn’t _he_ say something? Given everything he’d done, surely _he_ could do something to stop a fight from breaking out. Did he not want to get involved? What about the other adults? Her parents were Muggles, so Hermione wasn’t expecting much from them, but what about Mr. and Mrs. Weasley? 

“Come along, Draco,” Lucius said. “I think we’re done here.” 

Draco, who had made his way over to harass Ginny, tossed one of her books back into her cauldron in disgust before rejoining his father. 

“Did you deliver the package?” Lucius muttered as the two of them left. 

“Yes, Father,” Draco said. 

Rose watched them go, then turned to her friends. 

“Everyone alright?” she asked. 

“That was impressive the way you handled him,” Mr. Weasley said. 

“Thanks, but I could’ve done better,” Rose said. “Just give me some time to find his berserk button. Everyone’s got one, it’s just a matter of finding it. Like Draco’s is when I call him Drakey or remind him that I’m better than he is at… everything. Except getting my hair to be greasy. I’ll admit, he’s got me beat there.” 

“Did you see their faces?” Ron said, laughing. “I thought both of them were gonna deck you!” 

“Nah, Goldilocks is better than that,” Rose said. “He wouldn’t do anything to threaten his public image, but when I respectfully offered him an out, he took it.” 

Hermione couldn’t believe it. After everything she had seen Rose do, Rose was acting _coherent_. The girl was making perfect sense for once, and had handled the entire situation with a level head. Hermione fully expected Rose to attack the Malfoys, or at least reverse gravity, but she hadn’t done anything. 

“Did you mature in the past five minutes?” Hermione blurted out. 

“Me, mature?” Rose asked. “Nah! But after I realized that my standard annoyance tactics weren’t going to work, I asked myself ‘What would Alice do?’” 

“Really?” 

“Of course, the answer was ‘Slice him like a tomato’, so I then asked ‘What would Sk’lar do?’” 

“Thank you for not slicing anyone like a tomato,” Hermione said. 

“You’re welcome!” Rose exclaimed. “I figured Sk’lar would handle it with a more rational approach, so that’s what I did! Then I remembered something Uncle Oz said about how politicians hate to feel like they lost, so you should always make them _feel_ like they won.” 

Hermione was starting to understand how Carolina, whom she had learned was the responsible member of Rose’s family, managed not to go mad: She looked at the bright side of everything. Rose had mentioned that before, but Hermione hadn’t realized until just then that that was the trick to it. That was the trick to surviving Rose. 

_I just need to look on the bright side,_ thought Hermione. _Rose might not seem like she knows what she’s doing, but if I trust her, it’ll work out eventually._

Hermione wasn’t sure she’d ever fully grasp the idea, but knowing it was a good start. 


	5. Summer Comes to an End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we see Cedric, meet Luna, and realize just how crazy some people are.

**Disclaimer:** Even though Harry’s summer is ending, he is still owned by J.K. Rowling. 

* * *

The rest of the day was uneventful. It was almost relaxing for Hermione and Harry, who were both enjoying the feeling of being normal for an afternoon. 

When they got back to the Burrow, Mrs. Weasley _insisted_ that the Perks and Granger families stay for dinner. Dan, being a proficient cook, offered to help prepare the food. Molly was happy for the help, and Ginny was happy not to have to help her mum prepare the food. It wasn’t that Ginny was the only other female in the house, but rather that she was the youngest, and was therefore usually left alone while her brothers escaped. This meant that Ginny often ended up helping her mum in the kitchen. 

“One day, you’ll thank me,” her mum said. “Men love a woman who knows how to cook.” 

That was her mum’s reason why she should enjoy it, but Ginny didn’t _care_ what men did or didn’t love. She was _eleven_! The only boy in whom she had any interest was Harry, and he didn’t know she existed, and she was pretty sure that cooking wasn’t going to fix that. 

She had learned from Hermione and Sally-Anne that Harry loved Quidditch, so she was going to practice so she could impress him. If only Ron had been more willing to share, she would’ve already known about it months ago, and she could’ve been practicing at home! 

Ginny raced outside to join her brothers, where they promptly crushed her dreams by telling her that she couldn’t play with them. 

“We’ve already got two teams of two,” Ron said. “It would be uneven if you joined. Besides, we haven’t got enough brooms.” 

Ginny began to protest, but was cut off by a new voice. 

“Well, then, it’s a good thing I brought my spare.” 

They all looked over to see none other than Cedric Diggory walking towards them, a pair of brooms slung over his back. 

“I saw you lot out here the other day, but didn’t get a chance to come by,” he said. “You mind if I join? That way, Ginny could play too.” 

“What are you doing here, Cedric?” Hermione asked. 

“I live around here,” Cedric said, motioning behind him. “I come by now and then to play Quidditch with the guys.” 

“I _guess_ you can join,” Ron said, a little annoyed that he had to let his baby sister play with them. 

“Why don’t Harry and I play on a team with Ginny?” Cedric suggested. “I think our skill will be more than enough to make up for Ginny’s lack of experience.” He turned to Harry, and held out his hand. “Speaking of which, I’m not sure we’ve been properly introduced. Cedric Diggory.” 

“Harry Potter,” Harry replied, shaking Cedric’s hand. 

“Your skill?” asked Sally-Anne. 

“Cedric’s the Hufflepuff reserve Seeker,” Hermione explained. “That means he still practices with the team, and replaces the Seeker if necessary.” 

“This is our Seeker’s last year,” Cedric said, grinning. “With any luck, I’ll be meeting you, Harry, out on the Pitch next year!” He walked over and introduced himself to Sally-Anne, whom he had not met either, then turned to Hermione. “Hey, Hermione. How’s your summer been?” 

“Interesting,” Hermione said. Laughing, she added, “A little more than I’d like, actually.” 

“Rose hasn’t been giving you trouble, has she?” 

“Me?” Rose gasped in shock. “Trouble? Never!” 

Sally-Anne snickered and Hermione rolled her eyes. 

So, Ginny and the boys played Quidditch while Sally-Anne, Hermione, and Rose sat on the sidelines and paid little attention to the match. 

Hermione and Sally-Anne talked about the events of earlier that day. Hermione tried to explain why she thought Gilderoy Lockhart was so great, and Sally-Anne failed to understand. 

Unseen by the other girls, Rose had wandered off into the field, because she had noticed the girl with pale blonde hair again. 

The girl was wandering around with no clear direction, her head turned toward the sky. 

_For what is she searching?_ Rose wondered. _Let’s go find out!_

Rose left her friends to their games and chatting and skipped over to the new girl. 

“Salutations!” Rose greeted the girl, joining her in looking up at the sky. “For what are you looking?” 

“Dapperblimps,” the girl said. “They swoop down out of the sky, but usually only occupy the air around lakes. I thought I saw one earlier, so I came outside to look for it.” 

Rose recorded this in her notebook, then asked, “What do they look like?” 

“Like large puffer fish with wings,” the girl replied. 

Rose also wrote this down, then turned her gaze back to the sky. “Is that why they usually hang out around lakes?” 

“I think so,” the girl said. Rose noticed that her voice was serene, almost dream-like. It reminded her of Bowie’s friend Veshraolea from back home. 

“My name’s Rose,” Rose said. “Rose Peta-Lorrum.” 

“Luna Lovegood.” 

“Luna Lovegood,” Rose repeated. She grinned. “ _Kethé_! There’s an island on De’rok called ‘Luna’.” Her grin turned into a frown. “Well, until it was burned down by dragons.” 

“That’s unfortunate,” Luna replied. “Were there wrackspurts involved?” 

“I’m not sure,” Rose said, tilting her head while still looking at the sky. “What’s a wrackspurt?” 

“It crawls inside your head and makes your brain go fuzzy. Many horrible catastrophes are caused by wrackspurts, since they like to crawl into people with a lot of power.” 

“Oh. There might have been wrackspurts involved, then. I’m sure the Phantom’s brain was fuzzy when he sent those dragons to kill my friends.” 

“Dad taught me a charm to remove them,” Luna said. “Just in case I come across them.” 

“That sounds useful,” Rose said. “I know several people who could do to have a less fuzzy head. Normally, I just solve it with _divine enlightenment_ or _owl’s insight_.” 

“What are those?” 

“ _Divine enlightenment_ gives a +10 enhancement bonus to Intelligence, and _owl’s insight_ gives a +10 insight bonus to Wisdom.” 

“Those sound useful, too,” Luna replied. “Where did you learn those?” 

“My big brother invented _divine enlightenment_ , and I picked up _owl’s insight_ from the Guardians of the Green. Druids always know the best spells.” 

“Mum liked inventing spells.” 

Rose paused for a moment as Reflectesalon relayed some information to her, then exclaimed, “ _Kethé!_ ” 

“What does that mean?” 

“It’s Draconic for ‘shiny’! What’s your–” 

“Rose!” 

Rose glanced over her shoulder towards the Burrow to see Hermione running over to her and Luna. 

“Salutations, Hermione!” Rose greeted her friend. “This is my new friend Luna!” 

“Hello,” Luna said, finally taking her eyes off the sky. “I don’t think I see the dapperblimp.” 

“That’s alright,” Rose replied cheerfully. “Maybe we’ll find it tomorrow!” 

“What’s a dapperblimp?” asked Hermione. 

“They look like puffer fish with wings and swoop down out of the sky, usually around lakes,” Rose said. 

Hermione looked from her pale friend, to _her_ pale friend, and back. Dapperblimp was new on her, and she had the worst feeling that the _other_ girl was the one that coined it. 

Please _don’t let there be another one._

“Anyway, it’s time for dinner, and even though you don’t eat, we’d appreciate your company.” 

_So we can keep an eye on you and you don’t go causing trouble._

“Okay!” Rose replied, turning to Luna. “I’ll see you later, Luna!” 

“Farewell, Rose,” Luna replied. 

“Who was that?” Hermione asked. 

“Luna,” Rose replied. “My new friend.” 

“You mentioned that. Is she from around here?” 

“Probably. She talks with Sister Weasley sometimes. I like her.” 

“Ginny or Luna?” 

“Luna. She didn’t ask what ‘wisdom’ or ‘+10’ meant, and I’m getting tired of answering stupid questions all the time.” 

A year ago, Hermione would’ve tried arguing. Now she knew it was a waste of time explaining to Rose that those _weren’t_ stupid questions around there. 

“I’m glad you’re making friends,” Hermione said. 

“Me too!” 

As they reached the Burrow, the boys and Ginny were still playing Quidditch. Seeing that Ginny appeared to be gaining proficiency at Quidditch, Rose made a note of this, then put away her notebook. 

“Look out!” 

Someone (Ron) had missed the Quaffle, which left it heading straight for Hermione. 

Rose thought fast and shoved Hermione out of the way, putting herself in the path of the ball instead of her friend. Instead of moving out of the way herself, Rose simply watched as the Quaffle approached her, unconcerned about the high velocity projectile moving toward her. 

FWOOSH! 

The wind around Rose suddenly picked up and hurled the Quaffle to the ground, leaving Rose and Hermione both completely unharmed. Rose watched as the Quaffle ricocheted off the ground, then grinned. 

“ _That’s_ how that works!” she exclaimed. “ _Kethé!_ ” 

“What just happened?” Ginny asked as she and the others reached the ground. 

“ _Stormrage_ ,” Rose replied. “Sets up a permanent _wind wall_ around me, making me completely immune to thrown weapons and projectile ranged attacks.” 

Cedric bent down and helped Hermione up off the ground. “Are _you_ alright?” 

“Yeah, I’m okay,” she said. “I’ve been hit by worse, I guess.” 

“So no matter what,” Ron said, “you can’t be hurt by something thrown at you?” 

“Yup!” 

“What about a bullet?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“What’s a bullet?” 

“A piece of lead fired out of a gun at high velocity,” Hermione explained. “Guns are dangerous because a bullet could easily kill a normal person.” 

Rose shrugged. “I don’t know. It sounds like a projectile to me, so it shouldn’t be able to breach it.” 

“You’re immune to bullets,” Hermione commented. “Why am I not surprised?” 

Rose just beamed. 

* * *

After dinner, the girls returned to Ginny’s room to collect their belongings. While going through her own things, Ginny found something she didn’t recognize. 

“Hermione, is this yours?” Ginny asked, holding up a black book. 

“No, why?” Hermione asked, taking the book from her. She rifled through it, but the entire book was blank. 

“I found it in my cauldron,” Ginny replied. “But I don’t remember putting it there.” 

“Maybe someone wanted to give you a gift,” Sally-Anne suggested. 

“Rose, can you find out who put it in?” Hermione asked. She figured it was a long shot, but Rose had tons of tricks up her sleeves. Hermione figured she might as well ask, since, as per usual, the crimson-haired girl was paying no attention to what was going on around her, and instead staring at Ron’s pet rat that had entered the room. 

Rose turned to look at the book, then, without saying a word, grabbed it out of Ginny’s hands. 

“Oi!” she exclaimed. “That’s mine!” 

Rose ignored her, and, after a brief glance at the fleeing rat, began turning the book over in her hands, staring at it intently. 

“What’s she doing?” Ginny asked. 

“Not sure,” Hermione replied. “Probably another one of her tricks.” 

After about a minute, Rose said, “Human.” 

“What?” asked Sally-Anne. 

After another 60 seconds, all of which Hermione counted out, Rose added, “Male.” 

“Is that who put the book in my cauldron?” asked Ginny. 

Slowly, Hermione replied, “It sounds like that’s what she’s doing, but I’m not sure.” 

How was she doing that? Sally-Anne had seen Rose perform some extraordinary feats, but this one was new on her. Was she determining information about the book’s previous owner? Was she getting all of this just by _looking_ at the book? 

“Twelve years old.” 

Ginny gasped. She knew it! She knew that Harry had put that book in her cauldron! He was being nice to her, but was probably just too shy to admit it! It was a dream come true! Harry Potter had given her a gift! 

“It was Harry!” she blurted out. 

“Why do you think it was him?” Sally-Anne asked a little more defencively than she had intended. “What if it was Ron?” 

“Ron _never_ does anything nice for me,” Ginny shot back. “It _had_ to have been Harry!” 

Ginny was so excited that she didn’t hear Rose mutter “Neutral evil.” 

“What was that?” Hermione asked. 

Rose didn’t reply. 

“Rose what did you just say?” Hermione asked. “I’m almost certain I heard the word ‘evil’.” 

For another minute, Rose didn’t say anything, but Ginny took up the time with excited chatter. 

“Gained it when it was given to him, lost it when he dumped it in Ginny’s cauldron.” 

Rose finally looked up at them and handed Ginny the book. Ginny hastily grabbed it from Rose, squealing with excitement. 

“Rose, did you just do?” Sally-Anne asked her. 

Rose held up her hands. “One component of my gloves is a set of _gloves of object reading_. I just read the psychic impressions from the book left there by its previous owner.” She began to count off on her fingers. “In order, I listed race, gender, age, alignment, and how they gained and lost the book.” 

“What’s alignment?” Hermione asked. 

“The alignment chart,” Rose explained. “It goes in two dimensions, with one axis being the good/evil axis, and the other is the lawful/chaotic axis. I’m chaotic good, which means I do what I like, but usually have good intentions.” 

“Sounds about right,” Hermione said. “What did you say the old owner’s alignment was?” 

“Neutral evil,” Rose said. “But I also said 12-year-old male, so that’s a little redundant.” 

“Do you know what Harry’s alignment is?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“He doesn’t care about the rules, but doesn’t actively try to break them, so I’d say he’s neutral on the lawful/chaotic axis. He ran in to face Professor Quirrell not because it was the right thing to do, but because he wanted to save himself, which suggests a degree of self-centeredness. However, he _did_ come back to help Professors Snape and McGonagall, and myself, which suggests a good heart, so I’d peg him as neutral, maybe neutral evil, assuming you lot actually fall into the categories.” 

“What about me?” Hermione asked. The idea of these alignments had sparked her interest, if nothing else, because she wanted to know how she’d rate. 

“You’re definitely lawful,” Rose said. “You actively try to follow the rules, and have a decent degree of discipline, especially for a 12-year-old, so definitely lawful. I’m not sure where you fall exactly on the good/evil axis, but I would guess lawful neutral.” 

Rose turned to Sally-Anne. “Sally-Anne, you’re easy to evaluate. You’re neutral good, since you don’t tend to follow the rules as much as Hermione, but you’ve selflessly risked your life on more than one occasion for your friends.” 

“Oh,” Hermione said. “I guess I was hoping that I’d be… well, _good_.” 

“It’s alright!” Rose exclaimed. “There’s plenty of time for character development! Besides, I’m not positive on any of those assessments. It’s all really vague, so you’ve just got to guess most of the time.” 

“Then what’s the point?” Hermione asked. 

“Some spells are impossible to cast without the right mindset,” Rose explained. “So they force you to think differently than you might otherwise. The alignment systems were developed in an effort to determine how people would fare.” 

“This seems awfully well thought out for you,” Sally-Anne said. “No offence.” 

“None taken,” Rose replied, beaming. “Ref gave me a lot of the information, and Carolina explained most of it to me once. Most of my information regarding habits of people come from her!” 

Ginny was paying no attention to any of this. Instead, she had already started writing in her new diary that Harry had given her. 

* * *

The rest of the summer went by without any trouble. Rose animated the duct tape golem, which not only stayed intact, to her delight, but caused no trouble for anyone, to Hermione’s delight. 

“Don’t worry, Ducky will behave itself,” Rose said as she and Hermione were leaving for school. 

“Rose, it’s ‘duct tape’, not ‘duck tape’,” Hermione said. 

“So I can’t call it ‘Ducky’?” 

“You can, I guess,” Hermione said. “Can’t you come up with a better name than ‘Ducky’? You’ve got Reflectesalon, Intelligencer, _Serendipity_ ; Why not something better?” 

“But I like ducks.” 

“Of course you do,” Hermione sighed. 

“How about Anatidae?” asked Mrs. Hermione’s Mum. “It’s the family ducks belong to.” 

“We could call it ‘Ana’ for short,” Mr. Hermione’s Dad added. 

“Okay!” Rose exclaimed. “Good idea!” 

As they approached the platform, Hermione hugged both of her parents. 

“Stay safe, Sweetheart,” her dad said. 

“Let us know if there are any problems,” her mum added. 

“I’m sure things will go better this year,” Hermione said. “Gilderoy Lockhart’s going to be the Defence Professor, so there shouldn’t be anything to worry about.” 

Rose turned around and curtsied to Hermione’s parents. 

“Thank you very much for your hospitality.” 

“You’re welcome, Rose,” Mrs. Hermione’s Mum said. 

“Take care of Hermione for us,” Mr. Hermione’s Dad said. 

“I will!” Rose exclaimed, saluting. “You can count on me!” 

As the two of them watched the girls go, Dan said, “I might actually miss her.” 

“Which one?” Emma asked. 

“Both.” 

“Don’t worry,” Emma said. “They’ll look out for one another, and I’m sure we’ll be just fine with that golem Rose left us.” 

* * *

Hermione made the mistake of letting Rose pick where they sat on the train, so they ended up in the last compartment. Sally-Anne joined them shortly, then Luna and Neville, the latter of whom sat in the compartment across the way from them. 

Ginny showed up a few minutes before the train began to start, looking like she had run the whole way there. 

“Are you alright?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“I forgot something, so we had to go back,” Ginny panted. 

“Where are your brother and Harry?” Hermione asked. 

“They were right behind me,” Ginny replied, taking a seat beside Neville. “I’m not sure what happened to them.” 

Hermione began to worry. They were going to miss the train if they didn’t hurry up. 

A few minutes later, the train began with a lurch, and there was still no sign of the boys. 

“They’re missing the train!” gasped Sally-Anne. 

“Where are they?” asked Hermione. 

Rose held her finger to her face and muttered something Hermione didn’t understand. She was sure she picked out the words “Ronald Weasley”, but that was all she caught. 

“They’re still at the barrier,” Rose said. “I can get them here no problem.” 

“Rose, wait!” Hermione exclaimed. “They’re probably surrounded by hundreds of people. If they suddenly vanish, people might notice.” 

“People never seem to notice when people vanish through the brick column that hides the entrance to Platform 9¾,” Luna said. 

“Hermione,” Rose said, grinning at Luna, “is there something special about the barrier that prevents other people from noticing it?” 

“I think I felt a high concentration of wrackspurts around the barrier, so that might be why.” 

“Let me think,” Hermione said. “Maybe, but I can’t–” 

“ _Ayeth Thrana._ ” 

Hermione felt a familiar rush of information as Rose used _divine enlightenment_ on her. She was suddenly able to remember every piece of information about the platform, including the enchantments on the entrance. She could also remember the exact time at which she had awoken every day that summer, what she had eaten, and how annoying Rose had been. 

“Platform 9¾ is protected by a barrier that appears to Muggles as a simple brick column. However, when a user of magic runs at the pillar, they are able to access the platform from which the Hogwarts Express will take students to the school. This portal is protected by a ward that causes other people to disregard it, paying no mind to any people near it, and _please_ warn me before you do that.” 

“That was amazing!” Ginny exclaimed. 

Rose grinned, then expended a third charge on _Serendipity_ for the spell _sending_. 

<Cohort, you’ve got ten rounds to get yourself and Harry back to the platform entrance.>

* * *

“Hold up,” Ron said, stopping partway through the station. 

“What is it?” Harry asked. 

“It’s Rose,” Ron said. “She says to go back to the platform entrance.” 

Any other day, Ron would have questioned why he had just heard Rose’s voice in his head, but this wasn’t any other day. The barrier had just sealed itself shut, locking him and Harry out of the platform. Ron didn’t even think it could do that. More importantly, _why_ had it done that? 

“But the entrance doesn’t work,” Harry said. “We’ve got to find another way to get to school.” 

“But then why tell us to get back?” Ron asked. 

They couldn’t get through the portal, although neither boy knew why. But then why would Rose ask them to go back? Wait, she didn’t say to try to get _through_ it; she just said get _to_ it. 

“Come on,” Ron said, grabbing a hold of his best friend. “We’ve got to get back. I think I know what she’s going to do.” 

“What?” 

“I think she’s going to pull us through the portal,” Ron said, pushing his way through the crowd. What was a round, again? He vaguely remembered that it was some strange unit of time from Roseland, but didn’t know what it meant. 

Why did _he_ have to keep doing the thinking? He didn’t mind the logic, but remembering random facts was supposed to be Hermione’s job. Why did they keep getting separated from the rest of the group? What was it Rose always said? Don’t split the party? Ron was beginning to understand why. 

Nearly a minute later, they arrived back at the portal. 

“Now what?” asked Harry. 

“I don’t–” Ron began. 

The next thing the boys knew, they were on the Hogwarts express, in the middle of the aisle. 

“ _What?!_ ” Ron asked. “Did you just _apparate_ us?” 

“ _Teleport_ ,” Rose said. “Same basic thing.” 

“I thought you were just gonna pull us through or something,” Ron said. 

“I did!” 

“I think he meant _physically_ pull him through, Rose,” Hermione said. 

Neville and Ginny both stared at the group in amazement. 

“Is this _normal_ for her?” Neville asked. “I know she says weird stuff, but that’s… What’d she do?” 

“If I had to take a guess,” Hermione said, “she located Harry and Ron, sent a message to them to tell them to get back to the platform, then teleported them on board.” 

“Makes sense to me,” Luna said. 

Hermione began to grow worried. Since when did anything Rose do make sense to her to the point where she could explain it to other people? Had spending the summer with her friend really taken that much of a toll on her? Was she finally beginning to crack? 

Hermione’s impending panic attack was subdued when she realized that _divine enlightenment_ was still active on her. 

* * *

Unlike last year, they were not escorted by Hagrid when they reached Hogwarts, but instead they were led by Professor McGonagall to a bunch of carriages. Hermione had been wondering how the entire school had reached the Great Hall before them, so an alternate route would make sense, as would not being delayed by Professor McGonagall explaining the rules to them. 

Ron, already knowing most of the workings of Hogwarts from his five older brothers, had no such questions, but what he didn’t know was what was pulling the carriages. 

“Hermione, what are those?” Ron asked pointing at the unknown creatures. 

They almost looked like horses, except without skin or fur. It wasn’t like a horse skeleton, but almost like a hairless, sickly horse with bat wings. 

“That’s a good question,” she replied. 

Ron turned to his brothers. “Fred, George?” 

“What do you mean?” asked George. 

“The carriages pull themselves,” said Fred. 

“I’m looking at some rather compelling evidence that says otherwise,” Hermione said. 

Fred and George exchanged glances, then looked at the carriages. Nope, there was certainly nothing there. 

“They’re called Thestrals,” Rose said, skipping cheerfully up to one of them. She began to stroke its neck, which the Thestral appeared to enjoy. 

“How do you know?” Sally-Anne asked, looking nervously at the creatures. 

“The visibility mechanics of the Thestrals interested me,” she said, patting the creature’s snout. “They’re only visible to people who’ve seen death, but all the books about them don’t explain what that means. The most descriptive any reference gets is that a person must have witnessed death, and ‘fully accepted, understood and internalized the concept’.” 

“Uh huh,” Ron said, still cautiously surveying the Thestrals. 

“What I found most interesting was that no one seems to know how to categorize ‘death’,” Rose continued. “Obviously, it must be more significant than killing a mosquito or NPC, since everybody kills those.” 

Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but reminded herself that there was still no point. Rose hadn’t killed any NPCs _recently_ , so Hermione chose to focus on that instead of chastising Rose for killing NPCs in general. 

“Rose, if I might interrupt,” Sally-Anne said. “Why don’t we get in one of the carriages before they all leave?” 

So the six of them crammed into a carriage, with Rose sitting between Hermione and Sally-Anne on one side, and Ron, Neville, and Harry on the other. 

“Sorry,” Neville said as the carriage started to move. 

“What?” Harry asked, glad that Rose was still good at drawing attention away from him. He was already getting tired of Ginny acting nervous around him, which she had been doing all summer. It had grown old fast, since it just served to remind him that he was different from everyone else, even here. Why couldn’t he have been a normal boy with a normal life? 

“All of you can see them, so you must have seen someone die,” he said. 

“Nah, it was just Quirrell,” Rose said. 

“What about you?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“My grandfather,” Neville said. “He died a few years back.” 

“I’m sorry,” Sally-Anne said. 

The carriages pulled them into the castle, and they all went to the Great Hall for the sorting. While everyone sat and watched the Sorting take place, Rose recorded everyone’s name and into which house they were sorted. 

She wasn’t surprised when Ginny was sorted into Gryffindor, but was a little disappointed when Luna was sorted into Ravenclaw. Her disappointment turned into worry when she realized that _Luna had been sorted into Ravenclaw_. Rose had specifically asked _not_ to be sorted into Ravenclaw because it was the house of smart people, and smart people had a tendency to feel threatened by other smart people. In Rose’s experience, said smart people would lash out when threatened. 

Rose clenched her fist as the thought passed through her head. She had never questioned why Alice was so nice to her. The pink-haired girl was kind, and Rose had needed a friend at the time, so she just left it at that, but now Rose began to realize that it had probably made her sister angry to see people harassing Rose about her parents being dead. 

Like Rose had been, Alice was an orphan. Her parents had died not out exploring, not trying to fight back, but minding their own business. They had died right in their own home during an attack on their town. Alice had learned to fight out on her own, since it was all she could do to survive. She began stealing food, since she had nothing else. 

One day, Rose’s future big sister had stolen from the right person: Professor Ozerl. He had caught her, but instead of turning her over to the authorities, he gave her more food and a warm bed, because Uncle Oz was amazing like that. From that point on, Oz had looked out for Alice, pointing her in the direction of an order of Abjurant Champions with whom Alice had trained. 

Rose smiled, making a note to contact her family that evening when she got the chance. 

On their way out of the Great Hall, Rose broke off from the main group. 

“I’ll catch up with you later,” she called back to her friends. “I’ve got something I need to grab first!” 

Rose ran off down the hallway, heading straight for the Room of Requirement. It occurred to her that she should start walking in circles first to confuse anyone following her. After all, she didn’t want people knowing about the Room. 

She paced back and forth in front of where she knew the door to be, and after the third time, it appeared. 

Rose ran inside and hugged Inar. She had missed her little minion that summer, plus he had something for her. 

Inar handed Rose her _ring of greater sustenance_ , which had an additional quality to it. 

“A _ring of fire command_ ,” Rose said, slipping the ring onto her finger. “ _Burning hands_ at will, _flame strike_ twice a week. It’s gonna be great!” 

Sure, it would now take a week for the ring to re-attune to her, so she would continue to require a full eight hours of rest, but at least she didn’t need to eat. It was part of the reason that the ring had remained untouched until now. Until a few months ago, Rose would have needed to eat and sleep without it, but with _veil of undeath_ covering that, a _ring of sustenance_ was actually redundant. The only benefit it now provided was requiring less rest than she’d need otherwise. 

Rose held out her hand, aiming it at a conveniently empty wall, and activated the ring. A burst of flame shot out of her outstretched hand, creating a cone of fire. After the flames faded, a scorch mark was left behind on the wall, marking the place where the flames had once been. 

Rose looked at her gloved hand and began to laugh. She laughed for a solid six minutes before returning to her room for the night. 

* * *

**Note:** You read that right. _Owl’s insight_ , unlike literally every other ability score enhancement spell, gives an _insight bonus_ to Wisdom, which means it stacks with _owl’s wisdom_ and a _periapt of wisdom_. It’s not Wisdom Checks, it’s the _actual Wisdom score_. 


	6. Same Old, Same Old

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there are new faces, old faces, and Lockhart getting one-shotted by a book.

**Disclaimer:** Same as always, this disclaimer is informing you that Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling. 

* * *

<Salutations, everyone!>

<Rose, in the future,> Sk’lar pathed, <we’d appreciate more than the occasional ‘Still alive’ to Shadow to let us know that you’re alright.>

<But I’ve been having so much fun!>

<That’s good that you had fun,> Carolina pathed, <but your brother’s been having a panic attack for two months straight.>

<Oh,> Rose pathed. <Sorry, Sk’lar.>

<It’s alright,> Sk’lar replied. <I know you can take care of yourself, but–>

<You worry anyway. I’ll check in with you more often. Unless I can come home.>

<We have unfortunately been unable to directly analyze the barrier,> Oz pathed. <It blocks travel of any kind into the Rowling Plane, which means you won’t be able to summon creatures to the plane either.>

<That’s odd, considering I’ve been able to _blink_ without any problems, which means it _doesn’t_ block access to or from the Astral Plane, > Rose pathed. <Also, I’m pretty sure the dimensional prison moved us out of the plane, so maybe I can get _out_ of the plane, but not back into it. >

Acting on a whim, Rose produced her _schema of plane shift_ and activated it. 

Nothing happened. 

<Nope,> Rose pathed, placing the stone slab back into her picnic basket. <The _schema of plane shift_ I’ve got doesn’t work. >

<Interesting,> Sk’lar pathed. <I’ll check the Ethereal and Astral Planes, but it’s possible that the sections of those planes that correspond to the Rowling Plane will also be sealed.>

<How was your break?> Carolina asked, hoping to change the subject to something she could understand. 

<I got bored, so I started crafting.>

<Naturally,> Bowie pathed. 

<What did you make?> Alice asked. 

< _There_ you are! > Rose exclaimed. <Were you doing something more important than talking to me?>

<Well, I thought ‘It’s only Rosie, it’s not like it’s _important_.’ >

<Well, then I guess I don’t need to tell you what I made,> Rose replied. 

<Shadow, what did she make?> Alice asked the Halfling. 

<I don’t know, and even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you,> Shadow replied. 

<That’s my girl!> Rose pathed. 

<What do you mean you don’t know?> Alice demanded. <You’re her girlfriend, _of course_ you know! >

<Rose, she used the G-word,> Shadow pathed. <Since she’s your sister, I’ll give her fair warning: Alice, you’ve got ten rounds before I cut out your tongue.>

<Children!> Carolina shouted. <Behave!>

There were several groans of <But, Mom, she started it!>, one of which came from Bowie. 

<I don’t care who started it, you all continued it!> Carolina pathed. <How did we save the world _twice_? >

<Quirks?> Bowie suggested. 

<Cool magic items!> Rose exclaimed. 

<Careful planning,> Shadow replied. 

<Your guess is as good as mine,> Sk’lar replied. 

<As enlightening as our conversations are, Sk’lar and I must be going,> Oz pathed, amused by all of this. 

<We… Oh, right, that’s tonight, isn’t it?> Sk’lar groaned. <Hey, Carolina, want to–>

<Sk’lar, we must be going,> Oz pathed again. <You failed to come up with an excuse in time, and as a result, you’ve got to attend the conference this year. Don’t worry, I’m sure it will be over shortly once everyone dies of shock that you’ve actually shown up for once.>

<Is that the Arcana Conference, known for being the single most boring thing in existence?> Rose asked. 

<Yes,> Sk’lar grumbled. 

The Arcana Conference, as Rose understood it, was a gathering of the minds in Faera to discuss the current status of their technology. When Professor Ozerl first told Rose about it, she assumed it would involve demonstrations of new advancements in magic. In reality, it was a bunch of old Elves talking in monotone voices for days. 

<It’s an important part of our culture and your responsibilities as headmaster,> Ozerl reminded him. <I know you will present yourself as a dignified and responsible headmaster, and not the arrogant child the other attendees believe you to be.>

<You’ll do fine,> Carolina pathed. 

<Try not to die of boredom,> Rose and Alice pathed. 

<No promises,> Sk’lar grumbled. <Sk’lar out.>

<Take care of yourself, Rose,> Oz pathed. <Ozerl out.>

<Seriously, what’s my little sister been up to?> asked Alice. 

<I made a _stone dragon belt_ , a pair of _slippers of the setting sun_ , a pair of _gauntlets of throwing_ , modified my belt to channel positive or negative energy, and finally created a _ring of fire command._ >

<Someone’s been busy,> Bowie pathed. 

<I also enhanced Harry’s Quidditch gloves to enhance his Dexterity.>

<Just try not to go overboard,> Carolina pathed. 

<You’re just saying that because you can’t use magic items,> Rose sneered. 

<I’m just saying you’re different there. You can make things that no one else can, so just be careful.>

<Oh,> Rose pathed. Then, after realizing that she had been rude, she sheepishly added <Sorry.>

<It’s alright,> Carolina replied warmly. <I know you didn’t mean it.>

<Did you make any new friends?> asked Bowie. 

<Yup!> exclaimed Rose. <I met a girl called Luna!>

<Seriously?> Shadow asked. 

<Yup! She’s in Ravenclaw, and she’s got pale blond hair, and she doesn’t look at me like I’m mad!>

<Weren’t you _trying_ to get people to look at you like you’re crazy? > asked Carolina. 

<Yeah, but it got old after a while when _everyone_ looks at me like that, > Rose replied. <Wait. It gets old when people keep asking me the same questions. _That’s_ what’s getting old. >

<It does, doesn’t it?> Shadow pathed. 

<She also told me that bad things happen because creatures called wrackspurts crawl inside the heads of influential people and make their brains go fuzzy.>

<That makes _way_ too much sense, > Shadow pathed. 

While Rose was talking to her family, Alex was explaining that everything was the same as last year, except instead of seven flights of stairs, they only had to climb _six_ to reach their rooms. 

Unlike Rose, Sally-Anne was paying close attention, although Rose kept catching her attention. 

Rose was completely spacing out, laughing randomly, and kept making faces as if she were reacting to a completely different conversation. Sally-Anne had seen her do this before; according to Hermione, Rose was talking to her “imaginary friends”. Sally-Anne didn’t know what that meant, but she was certain that it was another strange quirk of Rose’s. There were plenty of them to go around. 

“Rose, are you alright?” Sally-Anne whispered. 

“Fine,” Rose replied. “Just chatting with my family back home.” 

“Okay,” Sally-Anne replied. “Just making sure.” 

“Okay!” 

* * *

“Hermione, are you awake?” whispered Rose that morning. 

“No.” 

“Crab apples,” cursed Rose. “When _will_ you be awake?” 

“Never,” Hermione mumbled. “I’m never waking back up. You’ll have to find a new friend.” 

“Okay,” Rose replied. “I’ll see if I can smuggle Luna in here.” 

“You do that,” Hermione replied. After hearing nothing for a few minutes, Hermione sat up. 

“Wait, what?” she asked, but there was no reply. Her head darted around their room, and, after not seeing Rose, she lept out of bed and threw on some clothes. 

“Please don’t be going to Ravenclaw Tower this early in the morning,” she muttered to herself as she descended the stairs. “ _Please_ don’t be going to Ravenclaw Tower this early in the morning,” 

To Hermione’s dismay, she found an empty common room when she reached the bottom of the stairs. She looked around the empty room, hoping that she had just missed the crimson-haired girl, but there was no sign of her. 

“She’s going to Ravenclaw Tower at two in the morning.” 

Hermione fished around in her pocket for the _seashell_ , grabbing a hold of it the moment she found it. 

<Rose, where are you?>

<On my way to Ravenclaw Tower to see Luna. Why?>

<Rose, it’s two o’clock in the morning. No one’s going to be awake at this hour.>

<Good! That’ll make it even easier to sneak Luna into Gryffindor Tower!>

<Rose, please don’t!>

<It’ll be fine!>

Hermione began to panic. If Luna were in Gryffindor Tower, not only would Rose get in trouble for removing Luna from Ravenclaw Tower while the blonde girl was asleep, but for being out of Gryffindor Tower past curfew. There would be actual proof that she was gone! Classes hadn’t even started yet and Rose was going to get them all in trouble! 

“What’s wrong, Hermione?” 

She whirled around to see a drowsy Sally-Anne standing in the doorway to their room. 

“Rose is running off to Ravenclaw Tower to kidnap Luna,” Hermione said. 

“That sounds like something she’d do,” Sally-Anne replied, rubbing her eyes. 

“Trouble is, I can’t think of how to stop her,” Hermione said quickly. She was beginning to panic. It wasn’t life-threatening, but it was still stressful when Rose went off to intentionally and nonchalantly break the rules. 

“Why don’t you try bargaining with her?” Sally-Anne asked. “Rose is certainly… what’s the word? Prag… something.” 

“Pragmatic?” 

“That. There must be something that you’ve got that she needs.” 

Hermione hadn’t thought of that. 

“Like what?” 

Sally-Anne thought for a moment, then replied, “Until a couple weeks ago, Rose didn’t know Professor Lockhart was real. I saw her scribbling something down in her notebook when he said he was going to be our new Defence Professor, so she’ll probably want to re-read his books. You’ve got all of his books, so why not offer to let her borrow them? It’s faster than the library.” 

“Sally-Anne, you’re brilliant,” Hermione said. 

“Not really,” Sally-Anne replied. 

<Rose, if you come back right now, I’ll share my books on Professor Lockhart with you. I bet they’re already checked out of the library by now, so you’ll–>

“What’s this about intel on Lockhart?” 

Hermione jumped, but Sally-Anne was so exhausted that she was apathetic towards Rose’s sudden appearance in the Gryffindor Common Room. 

“Thank you,” Hermione said. She turned to Sally-Anne. “You should probably get some sleep.” 

“Saluta–” 

“Good idea,” Sally-Anne said, cutting off her pale friend. “Would you two please try to be quieter? I’m sure if Parvati and Lavender weren’t such heavy sleepers, they’d ask the same.” 

“Okay,” Rose whispered loudly. 

As Sally-Anne began the long walk back up to their rooms, Rose turned to Hermione. 

“So, Hermione, what intel have you got on Lockhart?” 

“I’ve got all of his books,” Hermione said. “I packed them all in my bag, but I couldn’t fit some of my other books, so I had to leave them at home.” 

Hermione saw the notebook come out and immediately began to feel self-conscious. It was like Rose was just recording everything everyone said and going over it later. Hermione was beginning to feel judged. 

“Rose, I really hate it when you do that.” Hermione said. “Would you not?” 

“Do what?” 

“Write down everything I say.” 

“I’m not,” Rose said. “I just thought of something I could get you for Snowy Time, so I’m writing it down so I don’t forget.” 

“Oh,” Hermione said, her face turning red with embarrassment. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s alright,” Rose replied. “I get bothered by other people sometimes too!” 

* * *

At breakfast, Alex distributed their schedules to each of the second-year girls. As she handed Hermione’s hers, she whispered, “Congrats.” 

“On what?” Hermione asked, taking her schedule. 

“You’re taking Arithmancy a year early,” Alex said. “That’s rare.” 

“Two years, actually,” Sally-Anne said proudly, taking her schedule. “That’s the fourth-year class.” 

“What?!” Alex exclaimed. “How’d you manage that?” 

“It’s cos my Hermione’s the smartest in the plane!” Rose exclaimed, receiving her schedule. She put her other arm around Hermione and grinned. 

“Maths just comes easily to me,” Hermione said. “I’m trying not to broadcast it, though.” 

“Trying not to what?” Alex asked. 

“Sorry, I forgot the term ‘broadcast’ isn’t–” 

Hermione was cut off by a crashing of plates. The girls turned around to see not the Twins or Rose, as Hermione would expect, but a boy with black, slightly curly hair holding half of a plate. 

“Jonathon!” Alex shouted. “How many times have I told you to be careful with your things?!” 

_That must be the cousin she was talking about last year_ , thought Sally-Anne. 

The boy’s hair was remarkably similar to Alex’s, although definitely shorter. Judging by the annoyed expression on the prefect’s face, the plate was not the first thing he had broken. Sally-Anne wouldn’t have been surprised if he had broken something of Alex’s before. 

“What?!” the other boy shouted back. “It wasn’t me, it was…” He looked around for a scapegoat. “It was him!” 

He pointed at the boy sitting next to him, holding a device Sally-Anne recognized as a camera. 

“He startled me with that thing he’s got!” 

“It’s a camera,” the other boy said in a quiet voice. 

“Don’t try and pin this on…” Alex looked at the other first-year boy, or at least she assumed he was, since she didn’t recognize him. She leaned over to Rose and whispered, “Rose, what’s his name?” 

“Colin Creevey.” 

“Don’t try to pin this on Colin,” Alex said, making a note to herself to ask a person’s name _before_ starting her sentence next time. “I _know_ it was you!” 

“You can’t prove it!” Jonathon shot back at his older cousin. 

While this was going on, Sally-Anne turned to Rose. “May I please use a piece of paper, or parchment, or whatever you’ve got?” 

“Sure,” Rose replied, tearing out a piece of paper from the back of her notebook and handing it to the dirty-blonde. 

Harry noticed that the piece of paper grew back seconds after it was removed. 

Sally-Anne quickly scribbled something on the paper and handed it to Alex. 

Alex looked down at the paper. 

_You’re getting worked up. Let him off with a warning._

Alex glanced at Sally-Anne, who nodded, then turned back to her cousin. 

“Don’t do it again.” 

“Or what?” Jonathon jeered. “Are you gonna tell on me?” 

“Jonathon, your cousin receives her instructions directly from Professor McGonagall,” Sally-Anne said. “Alex can take away points from you if she wants, and no one likes it when we lose points. People won’t want to be around you if you get them into trouble all the time.” She glanced over at Rose, then mentally added, _Well, sort of._

“Fine,” Jonathon pouted, sitting back down in his seat. 

“Jonathon,” Sally-Anne asked kindly. “Would you please apologize to Colin for blaming him?” 

“Sorry, Colin,” Jonathon mumbled. 

“That’s okay,” Colin replied quietly. 

As sound returned to the Great Hall, Sally-Anne noticed that the camera-wielding first-year was staring daggers at Harry, and realized he’d been doing so for the past few minutes. She stood up and made her way down the table to where he was sitting. 

“Colin, follow me,” Sally-Anne said, motioning for him to follow her. 

Colin nervously followed the second-year, clinging to his camera as if it were the only thing keeping him safe. 

“Colin, this is Harry Potter,” she said as they came to her friends. “Harry, this is Colin Creevey. I think he’d like to meet you.” 

“Hey,” Harry said. 

“Hi,” Colin replied. He held up his camera. “Is it alright if I get your picture?” 

“Sure, I guess,” Harry said. He smiled awkwardly as Colin snapped a photo of him. 

“Thanks,” Colin said, his face lighting up. “I’ve read all about you! I was so excited when I learned you were just one year ahead of me!” 

“Great,” Harry said. 

He tried to force enthusiasm as Colin went on, but he was groaning internally. As if having Ginny fawning over him all summer wasn’t bad enough, now he had this kid. When were people going to realize that he was just another person?! 

At the Teacher’s Table, Minerva made a note to herself to keep a closer eye on Sally-Anne Perks. It wasn’t because the girl was causing trouble, but just the opposite; the girl seemed to have a knack for diffusing hostile situations. 

Prefects were selected by Albus, but that had long since become a formality. In practice, it was each head that chose their prefects. Minerva preferred to wait until their fourth year before seriously considering any of them, but she wasn’t sure that her assessment of the second-year girls was going to improve much. Brown and Patil didn’t stand out much, Granger was strong in academics, but Minerva wasn’t sure about the bushy-haired girl’s people skills, and she would nominate an acromantula before she nominated Peta-Lorrum. 

Perks, however, was showing promise. It would be interesting to see how she turned out in their fifth year, assuming Peta-Lorrum didn’t get her killed before then. 

* * *

On their way out of the Great Hall, Sally-Anne joined Harry after his biggest fan went off with the other first-years. 

“Sorry about that,” she said. “I was just trying to help him out.” 

“It’s fine. He wasn’t bothering me,” Harry lied. 

“ _Dürah!_ ” Rose sneezed. 

“Bless you?” Sally-Anne said. 

“Huh?” Rose asked. 

“You sneezed, so it’s polite to say ‘Bless you’ when someone sneezes.” 

“Why?” 

“I read that when a person sneezed, it was believed that they were opening themselves to be possessed by demons,” Hermione explained, “so people would say ‘Bless you’ to that person to prevent the demons from taking over their bodies.” 

“This plane is so weird.” 

“Yeah, _we’re_ the weird ones,” Ron scoffed. “So we’ve got a free period. Hermione, fancy a game of chess?” 

“ _You’ve_ got a free period,” Hermione corrected him. “ _I’ve_ got Arithmancy.” 

“Oh,” Ron said, a little disappointed. 

The best match he had had all summer was against his dad, who was good, having taught Charlie how to play, but now Ron had surpassed even _him_. He was starting to get bored with it. Hermione was the only person left that offered him a challenge. The best match he’d had recently had been against Professor McGonagall’s statues. Hadn’t Hermione said that McGonagall would be just as good? It felt weird asking a _teacher_ to play chess with him, but if no one else challenging was going to play, then he wasn’t left with many options. 

“Well, why don’t we all walk with you, then?” Ron suggested. “You need someone with you, right?” 

Hermione narrowed her eyes. “Who told you that?” She turned to Rose. “Did you–” 

“No one,” Ron said. “It was the only possible explanation why you’d want to spend that much time alone with Rose.” 

“Oi!” Rose exclaimed. “I’ll have you know that I am _delightful_!” 

“So you figured that if I didn’t _want_ to be around Rose, then I must _need_ to be around Rose,” Hermione said. “Ron, that’s clever!” 

“Why do you sound so surprised?” Ron asked as the five of them started the long trip up to the seventh floor. “I’m not an idiot! Why does everyone always act like I am?” 

“I’m sorry, Ron,” Hermione said, feeling embarrassed for the second time that day. “That just came out wrong. I really didn’t mean anything by it.” 

“It’s fine,” Ron replied, settling down. “I’d be completely mad if I had to spend all summer with her.” 

Today was turning out not to be Hermione’s day. If she didn’t have the _ring of sustenance_ , she’d think she were just tired. Maybe she was starting to get worn out dealing with Rose all day. At least _now_ she’d get breaks. It seemed odd, though. Rose wasn’t _that_ annoying, was she? Hermione hoped it would get better as she got better at rolling with whatever Rose said. 

Whatever it was, it didn’t matter, so long as it didn’t happen during Arithmancy. 

Rose turned to Hermione when they reached the Arithmancy room. 

“We’ll be here after class to pick you up,” Rose said. “Don’t stay out too late, don’t trust anyone asking for spare gold, and don’t be afraid to punch the boys if they get too handsy.” 

Hermione opened her mouth, closed it again, then opened it. After trying and failing to come up with a better response, she replied, “Okay, Rose.” 

Sally-Anne was having a hard time not cracking up. She was pretty sure that Rose was just joking (something that was often made more difficult to deduce by the fact that most of what Rose said sounded like nonsense), but she didn’t want to laugh in case Rose wasn’t joking. 

Hermione walked inside and took her seat at the front of the classroom. She took out her notebooks and organized her desk, desperate to find something to do to keep her mind off class. Hermione was thrilled to be in Arithmancy, but she was nervous about it nonetheless. 

“Good morning, Hermione,” she heard after a few minutes. 

She turned around to see Cedric walking inside. 

“Hello, Cedric,” Hermione said. 

“I wasn’t expecting to see you here today.” 

Hermione smiled, glad to see a familiar face. 

“Getting an advance on your visits, or are you actually _taking_ the class now?” 

“Yeah,” Hermione said, a broad grin covering her face. 

“I’m sure I’m not the first to say ‘Congratulations’,” Cedric said. “You’re _two years_ ahead. That’s _brilliant_!” 

“Thanks,” Hermione said, blushing a little. “It’s really nothing. I’m just good at maths is all.” 

Having already been through the same thing last year, it shouldn’t have been so bad when the other students came in and saw Hermione sitting there talking with Cedric. To her surprise, however, Hermione was finding that it was _worse_. Did they not realize that she could hear them whispering about her, or did they just not _care_? 

“Good morning, class,” Professor Vector said as she walked in. “I see you have all discovered that Ms. Granger is here. To crush any rumors that may have spread, she _will_ be joining us this year as a member of the class.” 

More whispering. 

“I must say, I’m a little disappointed,” Professor Vector said, looking at the small cluster of Ravenclaws near the front. “I would think that as fourth-years, you would all be smart enough to realize that sound carries.” 

Roger went pale as he realized that he had been heard, and Rebecca shot a quick glare at Hermione. 

Professor Vector opened by discussing what they’d be learning that year. Hermione wrote down what she could, making notes here and there. She found herself wondering how Rose did this so fast, not to mention all the time. She used a different language for her notebook, didn’t she? Maybe that language was more efficient than using Latin letters. Hermione made a small note in the margins of her notes to ask Rose about her notebook. 

* * *

After Arithmancy was Herbology, which Rose found far more interesting this year than she had last year. 

“Be careful with them,” Professor Sprout warned them. “The cry of a mandrake can be lethal to those who hear it.” 

“So it’s like _holy word_?” asked Rose. 

“I’m sorry, Ms. Peta-Lorrum, I’m not sure I understand.” 

“Seventh-level spell that kills any non-good creatures that hear it that have ten less HD than the caster. Otherwise, it could blind, paralyze, or deafen them.” 

“Actually, that’s not far off,” Professor Sprout said, surprise evident in her voice. “Even muffled, a mandrake can be harmful, causing several of those symptoms.” 

_Finally, something in this plane makes sense_ , thought Rose. 

_Finally, something she says makes sense_ , thought Professor Sprout. 

Rose stifled a laugh as Reflectesalon relayed Professor Sprout’s thoughts to her. 

Beside Rose, Hermione raised her hand. 

“Wouldn’t that be the equivalent of dropping a bomb on people?” asked Hermione. “If it’s lethal to all who hear it, then it could be potentially _devastating_!” 

“Your concerns are not misplaced, Ms. Granger,” Professor Sprout said. “Mandrakes are regulated to the best of the Ministry’s ability, but they are sought after mostly for their use in several potions. Can anyone tell me what the most common use for mandrake root is?” 

Several hands went up, many students eager to receive house points early in the term. 

“Mr. Longbottom, I believe your hand was up first.” 

“They’re used in potions to reverse transfigurations.” 

“Very good, five points to Gryffindor.” 

Neville was proud of himself. He might have gotten ten points _total_ last year, and that was not counting the upwards of _fifty_ points that he had lost from Professor Snape alone. No matter how hard he tried, the only time that he had done well during Potions was the one class that he had worked with Rose as a partner. He wasn’t sure how, but she had caught _every_ mistake that he had made before it turned into a disaster. It was like she could just _talk_ to the cauldron to figure out exactly how much of each ingredient he had added. In fact, that was _exactly_ how it had appeared. 

Adding to that was the quirky girl’s anal attitude towards the care of the cutlery. 

“ _If you leave a mess on it, then it will ruin the blade_ ,” she had said. “ _Keep them sharp, keep them clean. If I wouldn’t sell it, I won’t use it._ ” 

Neville still had no clue what that last part meant, but it _did_ mean that their potion hadn’t been ruined by leftover ingredients on the blade or cutting surface. He had tried keeping his workspace clean the rest of the year, but he was always so nervous around Professor Snape. He felt like he was being watched throughout class, and Professor Snape was just _waiting_ for him to make a mistake. 

“To further alleviate your concerns, Ms. Granger,” Professor Sprout continued. “It becomes less dangerous the farther away from it you are. So it wouldn’t be as dangerous to those on the outskirts of a small community if one were to be released in the center.” 

Hermione nodded her understanding. 

“Today, we are going to learn how to pot a mandrake,” Professor Sprout said. “It’s not too challenging, and these are only infants. You place your earmuffs over your ears, take them out of the soil, and put them in the pots. Simple. However, _no one_ do _anything_ until _everyone’s_ earmuffs are on. It is _dangerous_ , and I don’t want to send anyone to Madame Pomfrey this early in the school year. Is that understood?” 

There was a chorus of agreement from her class. 

“Very good,” Professor Sprout said, smiling again. “Now, does everyone have a pair of earmuffs?” 

After having visual confirmation that everyone did in fact have a pair of earmuffs, she continued. 

“Alright, everyone, earmuffs on!” she ordered. She waited for everyone to place their earmuffs on their heads, then shouted, “One person from each pair, take the mandrakes out of the soil!” 

For most people, it was hardly tolerable to hear that much screeching all at once. The earmuffs were a big help for all of them. 

Except Rose. 

She winced as her bonuses to her hearing were once again used against her. 

<Not again,> she groaned to Reflectesalon. 

She quickly shoved the annoying creature into its pot as her vision began to go fuzzy. 

<There’s the blindness.>

“Is everyone alright?!” shouted Professor Sprout as the last of the mandrakes was potted. 

She looked out over her class until her eyes fell upon Rose. 

“Ms. Peta-Lorrum, are you alright?” 

“I’ll be okay,” she replied. “Like I said: Just like _holy word_.” 

* * *

As they sat down in the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom that afternoon, Sally-Anne looked out at all of her friends. As she would have expected, Hermione was excited to be learning from Gilderoy Lockhart, Harry was happy that someone _else_ would be getting all the attention, Ron was _annoyed_ that someone else was getting all the attention, and Rose was curious about their new professor. 

“Good afternoon, everyone,” Professor Lockhart greeted them, flashing a smile at his students. “As you all know, my name is Professor Lockhart.” 

Sally-Anne zoned out as Professor Lockhart began to list off a bunch of titles. What was it about him that had eight of the nine other girls in the room fawning over him? His hair was kind of nice, and he had a nice smile, but she didn’t see what was so special about him. Maybe it was just her. 

“Now, I’m going to start us off with a little quiz, just to see how much everyone already knows,” Professor Lockhart said. 

When Sally-Anne received her quiz, she quickly realized that it was all about _him_. As if it weren’t bad enough that all of his books were required for the class, but now he was giving a quiz on _himself_! Professor Lockhart had to be the most conceited person she had ever met! Everyone had painted him as some brave hero, and Sally-Anne admired that, but he was just full of himself. 

Afterwards, he collected the quizzes and looked over them. 

“Disappointing, I must say,” Lockhart said. “It seems most of you forgot that my favorite color is lilac.” 

_Or some of us don’t care,_ Sally-Anne thought. 

“But, Hermione Granger and Rose Petolarrum did well! Three points to each of you!” 

Hermione blushed, and Rose beamed, hiding her annoyance that he had messed up her name. 

“Now, on to today’s lesson,” Lockhart said. He pulled a sheet off a box on his desk, revealing a cage of pixies. 

“Remember, the most important rule is not to panic!” he shouted as he opened the cage. 

Pixies flooded the room, grabbing quills, books, and a poor Neville and flinging everything around in a mass of chaos. 

“Don’t worry, this is just practice!” Professor Lockhart shouted. “I’ve got everything under control!” 

He waved his wand, shouting an incantation, which caused his wand to spark in his hand. After that, a pixie dropped a book on his head, and the man went down. 

As the entire class began to panic, Hermione, Harry, Ron, and Sally-Anne turned to Rose. 

“Do something!” Hermione shouted. 

Rose looked at the unconscious professor and sighed. Without saying a word, she walked over to the cage where the pixies had once been held and closed it. She then turned around, her wand in her hand, and muttered something under her breath. 

Next thing everyone knew, every one of the pixies appeared back in the cage. 

“ _That’s_ how you do battlefield control,” Rose said, grinning. She turned to the man pretending to be a defence professor, who was still out cold on the ground. 

“I’m disappointed. I had such high hopes for you.” She grinned. “Oh well! Now it will be less disappointing when you leave at the end of the year!” 

She turned to the rest of the class and shouted, “Class dismissed!” 

* * *

**Note:** _Dürah_ roughly translates as “manure”, but a tad more crude. 


	7. Shoes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Draco is annoyed, and Luna is calm.

**Disclaimer:** With all the money she’s made from owning Harry Potter, I’m sure J.K. Rowling could buy some really fancy shoes. 

* * *

Saturday rolled around, and by then Hermione had lost even more faith in their new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor. They were learning _nothing_. On Thursday, he spent the entire hour talking about himself. Not the course, like some other professors, but _himself_. 

Arithmancy was going well, other than the fact that she could almost feel Rebecca Gamp’s eyes burning a hole in the back of her head. Sally-Anne had pointed out that Hermione knocked Rebecca out of the top spot in the class, and Rose had cryptically informed them that smart people could become touchy when threatened. 

“Were you the one being threatened by someone smarter than you, or were you threatening someone smarter than you?” asked Ron at breakfast. 

“Yes,” replied Rose. 

“Don’t want to talk about it?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“Not really,” Rose replied. 

“There are things she _doesn’t_ talk about?” Ginny asked. “I thought she just kept talking all day.” 

“Dragons are also on that list,” Ron said, receiving a death glare from Rose. Quickly changing the subject before he ended up encased in amber again, he said, “It’s Saturday, so what are we going to do today?” 

“I’ve got Quidditch practice in a few minutes,” Harry said. 

“Already?” Hermione asked. “Doesn’t Wood work you a little hard?” 

“I guess, but it’s still a lot of fun.” 

“Why don’t we all go keep Harry company at practice?” suggested Sally-Anne. “Ginny, would you like to join us?” 

“No thanks,” Ginny whispered, nearly silenced by Harry’s eyes on her. 

“Are you sure?” Sally-Anne asked, trying to move so she could see the red-head’s face. 

Ginny nodded, her face turning red. 

Harry rolled his eyes. 

“Alright, then,” Sally-Anne said. Quickly, she added, “I’m sorry, Harry, I forgot to ask if it was alright. Come to think of it, I didn’t ask _anyone_ if it was alright.” 

“I don’t mind going,” Hermione said. “I’m not sure I’ll pay much attention, but it’d be nice to get some fresh air.” 

“I didn’t have any other plans today,” Rose said. “Although, I do want to go visit the House-elves sometime soon.” 

Ron wasn’t sure _he_ wanted to go. He really wanted to join the team, but there were no open positions, not to mention he wasn’t sure he was good enough even if there were. What Ron _really_ wanted to do was practice, but he was only _now_ allowed to have a broom on school grounds. Unfortunately, there hadn’t been any room in his trunk for a broom, _and_ he didn’t even own the one at home. Technically, they were the _family’s_ brooms. Why couldn’t he have _anything_ he wanted? 

Rose gasped, grinned, then began to scribble in her notebook, indicating that she had just had an idea. 

“What’s she doing?” Ginny asked, averting her eyes the second Harry turned towards her. 

“She takes notes on everything,” Sally-Anne said. “It’s actually not a bad idea, especially for someone with ADHD like Rose.” 

“Someone with what?” Ron asked. 

“Attention deficit hyperactivity disorder,” Hermione said. “A mental disorder characterized by a short attention span, constant hyperactivity, and impulsiveness.” 

“So, Rose?” Ron asked, grinning. 

“Rose doesn’t just _have_ ADHD,” Hermione said. “She’s the _poster child_ for ADHD.” 

“Are you lot talking about me?” Rose asked, looking up from her notebook. 

“Absolutely not, Rose,” Hermione said. “Never.” 

“Alright, just making sure,” Rose said, closing her notebook. 

“Or as my parents say,” Hermione added, “attention deficit– Oooh! Shiny!” 

Ron and Sally-Anne laughed, and even Harry smiled a little. 

Sally-Anne was starting to worry about him. He wasn’t talking much and he always seemed distracted, leading her to believe something was bothering him, but he wouldn’t say what. 

She decided to ask Rose about it. If Rose didn’t know, then Sally-Anne was sure that she could find out. 

After breakfast, the five of them headed off to the Quidditch Pitch to watch the team practice, and for a while, that’s what they did. 

Not five minutes after the team got into the air, a problem arrived in the form of the Slytherin Quidditch team. 

“Oh no,” Hermione said when she saw the other students walking onto the Pitch. 

“Hey, it’s Drakey!” Rose exclaimed, hopping down from the stands. 

Hermione didn’t understand why Rose just jumped off the stands, but she figured it out when the crimson-haired girl floated down and landed on her feet, unharmed. 

The Gryffindors amassed at the entrance, and Rose received a glare from Malfoy as she approached. 

“Do you not like ‘Drakey’?” she asked. “What about ‘Blondie’?” 

“What’s the Freak doing here?!” he shouted. 

“Not Blondie, then,” Rose said, furling her brow in concentration. “How about ‘Greasy Hair’?” 

“Stop it,” Malfoy said through gritted teeth. 

“Butterhead?” 

That one got a series of snickers from the Gryffindors, all of whom had landed to find out why the Slytherins were there. 

“My name is Draco Malfoy!” Malfoy shouted, his face flushed. 

“Drakykins?” 

More snickers from the Gryffindors. 

“ _DRACO MALFOY!_ ” 

“Drakalicious?” 

The Twins burst out laughing. 

“Drakalistic Malcadocious. Final offer.” 

“Ignoring the Freak,” Malfoy shouted, “we have the Pitch!” 

“Says who?” Wood asked. 

“Says this,” Marcus Flint sneered. 

He held up a piece of parchment, which Wood took out of his hands. 

“A signed notice from Professor Snape,” Wood said, “granting the Slytherin Quidditch team use of the Pitch to train their new Seeker.” He lowered the parchment. “New Seeker?” 

“Obviously that’s why Drakalistic’s here,” Rose said. “He’s the new Seeker! Although, _why_ he’s the new Seeker, I don’t know.” 

“Looks like he just bought his way onto the team,” Ron said. “What are those, Nimbus Two-thousand Ones?” 

“A full set, it looks like,” Rose said. “Way to go the extra mile, Drakalicious!” 

“Rose, stop it,” Hermione hissed. 

“Why don’t you lot just run along?” Malfoy sneered, ignoring Rose. “It’s time for the big kids to play.” 

“The big kids _were_ just playing, Malfoy,” Ron said, grinning. 

“Big talk from someone who couldn’t make the team,” Malfoy shot back. 

_That_ touched a nerve. Ron lunged for Malfoy, but his brothers caught him before he could do any damage. 

Unfortunately for the young Gryffindor, the sole result of his mistake was the Slytherin team laughing at him. 

“I didn’t realize that the standards for the Slytherin team were so low,” Rose said. “I mean, no offence to the rest of you, but objectively speaking, Butterhead isn’t the best choice for a Seeker. You’ve got far more students that have better skill in the air, as well as faster reflexes than him.” 

“This coming from a girl in a stupid red dress,” Malfoy sneered. 

“My dress is black, since you failed your Perception Check, but way to recycle Goldilocks’s comebacks. So not only do you _look_ like your father, you _talk_ like him too.” Rose looked around, then whispered, “I hate to say this, Butterhead, but I don’t think he was on the Quidditch team. If you’re trying to be just like him, you’re doing an awful job of it.” Rose tilted her head to the side. “Although, I guess that was obvious from your hair. Do you just dump a bucket of grease on it every morning? I feel like I’d need to wash my gloves after touching it.” 

“Your hair’s crimson!” Malfoy shouted, receiving no support from the rest of his team. 

Unlike Malfoy, _they_ had no vendetta against the crimson-haired girl, and they had all heard rumors about her… unique abilities. Exaggerated by Gryffindors, of course, but there had to be _some_ truth to them. 

“That’s to hide the blood,” Rose said, smiling in a way that gave a few of the onlookers shivers. 

Draco was getting frustrated. After the encounter with the girl over the summer, his father had taught him a few techniques to stay calm in any situation. His father had assured Draco that it would help him prepare for the next time he met the Freak, but all the calming draught in the world wasn’t going to change the fact that this girl showed him neither respect nor fear. He couldn’t figure out how to _beat_ her. He didn’t want to just shrug off her onslaught of annoyance, he wanted to see the girl in tears! Draco wanted to get under her skin and make her lash out at him. He wanted to see her squirm! 

“You can’t win, Drakykins,” Rose said, interrupting the blond boy’s train of thought. “Signed note or not, we were here first. If you’ve got a problem, feel free to take it up with Professor McGonagall. You can have the Pitch after they’re through with it.” 

“We have the Pitch _now_!” shouted Flint. “No matter what you say!” 

“The only way I see people moving is if you make them,” Rose said, “and I hate to tell you, that’s not going to happen.” 

Malfoy pulled his wand on Rose. Fred, George, and Ron all pulled out their wands, but Rose didn’t even flinch. 

“Well, I win round one,” she said. “Boys, put down your wands, you’ll only get in trouble.” 

“What were you saying before about reflexes, Freak?” Malfoy spat. 

“Malfoy, don’t!” Hermione said. 

Why was Rose antagonizing him like that? Did she _want_ this to turn into a fight? 

“Shut up, Mudblood!” 

“Now, that was awful rude,” Rose said, still not moving an inch. “I think you owe the nice young lady an apology, Draco.” 

“How’s _this_ for an apology?” he sneered, raising his wand. 

Rose smirked, and a flash of light lit up the Pitch. 

The moment the Slytherins entered the Pitch, Rose knew a fight was going to break out, because that was Butterhead’s solution to all his problems. In preparation, Rose had hidden a _fast torch_ , an alchemical item that took a swift action to light, in her sleeve. Combined with the spell _pyrotechnics_ from her new _ring of fire command_ , she could create fireworks from the open flame of the torch. 

One swift action to light the torch and one standard action to activate her ring equaled over a dozen confused students and one excited Rose. 

“What was _that_?” Malfoy shouted, still rubbing his eyes with both hands to clear the spots. 

He stopped when he realized what he was doing. 

“WHERE IS MY BROOM?!” he demanded. 

The Slytherin Team all looked around, each realizing in turn that _none of them_ had their brooms. 

The Gryffindors thought it was amusing until they too realized that someone had taken _their_ brooms. 

“Rose, what did you do?” demanded Harry, who was quite attached to his broom, and more than a little panicked about its sudden disappearance. 

“Anyone who wants their brooms back,” Rose announced, “should turn around and start walking until you run into something. That something should be your broom. If it isn’t, then keep walking.” 

Rose reached her left hand towards the sky, flexing her fingers as she did so. 

“You–” Malfoy began, but was cut off by Rose shooting _fire_ out of her outstretched hand. 

“Broomsticks are nice and dry, Butterhead,” she said. “They burn _really_ easily, and I can get to them faster than you can. Do you really think that Goldilocks will replace those?” 

One by one, each of the Slytherin students turned around and left the Pitch. The last one to leave was Malfoy, who gave Rose a look of pure hatred before leaving. 

“How’d you do that?” one of the chasers whose name Rose couldn’t remember asked after everyone had left. 

“She’s just going to say–” Hermione began. 

“Maaaaagic!” Rose replied, waving her fingers. 

As they had done last Christmas, the Twins waved their arms in an arc behind her. 

“Seriously, where are our brooms?” Wood asked. 

“What did I tell you?” Rose replied. “Turn around, and start walking.” 

Considering no one had taken their eyes off the Slytherins, they hadn’t noticed their brooms sticking out of the ground behind them. Apparently, someone had shoved them all in the ground while the team had been blinded. 

After everyone had their brooms back, the team continued practicing until lunch time, at which point the exhausted team and their not exhausted captain changed out of their uniforms and went to lunch. 

* * *

“I’ve got to get going,” Sally-Anne said as they finished lunch. “Professor Babbling asked to meet with me this afternoon.” 

“Alright,” Rose said. “We’ll walk with you. Right, everyone?” 

“Sure,” Hermione said. “Why not?” 

On their way to Professor Babbling’s office, they discovered something odd, even for Hogwarts. 

“Whose shoes are those?” Rose asked her friends. 

The other four followed Rose’s gaze to the ceiling. A pair of shoes dangled from the rafters, held up by laces that were tied together. 

“How would we know?” Ron asked. “Why not just ask your imaginary friend?” 

“Ronald, that was rude,” Hermione scolded. 

“I’ll find out,” Rose replied. 

<Smithy, would you please hand me those shoes?>

The shoes floated up off the rafters, then gently glided down into Rose’s waiting hands. 

<Thank you, Smithy.>

<Of course, Ma’am.>

Rose looked the shoes over, then held them up to Harry. 

“Look familiar?” 

“No, I don’t think so,” Harry replied. 

The other three shook their heads. 

“Why just Harry?” asked Sally-Anne. 

“He’s got the best Perception Check,” Rose replied. “They’re Luna’s.” 

“The Ravenclaw girl?” Ron asked. 

“No, Cohort,” Rose said, “the _other_ Luna. I don’t think a single person in this entire school shares a name with another person.” 

“Don’t call me Cohort!” 

“There’s no need to shout,” Sally-Anne said. “I need to get to Professor Babbling’s office, and we’re almost there. Rose, can you find Luna?” 

“Easily,” Rose replied. 

“Good. And you know it bothers Ron when you call him ‘Cohort’.” 

“I know, that’s why I did it.” 

Sally-Anne glared at Rose in a way that reminded her a little of Carolina. 

“Rose, be nice. He’s your friend.” 

“Alright,” Rose said. In the tone of a child being forced to say something, she added, “Sorry, Ronald.” 

“It’s fine,” he said in the same tone of voice as Rose. 

“I’ll see you all later,” Sally-Anne said, a little worried that her friends were going to kill each other without her. 

Sally-Anne walked to Professor Babbling’s office alone. Her hand shook as she knocked on the open door. 

Professor Babbling sat at her desk, which was in full view of the door. She glowered at papers as she marked up each one with a red quill. 

“Professor?” Sally-Anne asked. “You wanted to see me?” 

“Yes, I did,” Professor Babbling replied. “Please, have a seat.” 

Sally-Anne looked around the room as she walked inside. There were pictures of designs and charts with runes on them all over the room. 

“Professor Vector said you had taken an interest in wards,” Professor Babbling said. “Is this correct?” 

“I guess,” Sally-Anne replied. “I just wanna keep people safe, like Rose.” 

“Like… Rose Peta-Lorrum?” 

“Yeah. I know she comes off as strange, but it’s better with her around. She sticks up for us, and when you told us about wards during the seminar last year, I thought it would be neat to learn some defencive spells. So Rose and Hermione helped me research wards in the library. That’s how I found your paper on dimensional prisons.” 

“Yes, and you were able to apply the theory well enough that you helped your friends break out of one.” 

“Not really, most of that was Rose and Hermione,” Sally-Anne replied. “Everyone was amazing! Ron just pulled random information out of his head, Harry spotted those runes in seconds, and then Hermione did… Arithmancy… stuff that I can’t begin to understand. And Rose looked like she was having the time of her life!” 

“Yes, she does seem strange,” Professor Babbling said thoughtfully. “If it’s defencive spells that you’re interested in, I think I may have an idea.” 

The Ancient Runes Professor unfolded her hands and turned over her left hand, revealing an intricate design of interlocking circles tattooed to her palm. There were four circles inside a big circle, although each one had divots and dots placed at random. 

“This is a Shield Rune,” Professor Babbling explained to the bewildered second-year. “This is one of the most versatile runes, due its multiple components. Each of those four circles is another component, which all join together to form the rune.” 

She flexed her hand, splaying her fingers to fully reveal the rune. A shimmering, almost translucent disc appeared above her open palm. 

“Wow,” Sally-Anne breathed. “How’d you do that?” 

“Runes don’t need a wand to activate them,” explained Professor Babbling, “and with enough practice, it’s possible to do any magic without an incantation.” 

She closed her hand, causing the disc to vanish from sight. 

“That’s the most basic effect of the rune.” She indicated one of the circles. “That’s the only component necessary to create that shield. It stops spells and objects alike, depending on how much energy is put into it. Additionally, it can absorb the energy from blocked spells to power it.” 

“Wow,” Sally-Anne said again. “Would you please teach me how to do that?” 

“That’s why I’m showing this to you,” Professor Babbling replied, smiling. 

“Why me?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“It takes a lot of work to master the shield rune,” Professor Babbling said. “But once you do, it is the best in defencive magic. I believe you have what it takes, Sally-Anne.” 

“But I don’t!” Sally-Anne replied. “I didn’t _do_ anything other than read that paper on the dimensional prison. I had to keep asking Rose and Hermione to tell me what many of the words meant, and–” 

“Did you ask them at any point to explain it to you?” 

“No, but–” 

“So you worked out the concept for yourself?” 

“I guess.” 

“Sally-Anne, that’s a _very_ complicated topic, and there were no depictions of what it actually looks like anywhere in that paper. It took Professor Vector and I _years_ to get it to a working state, and that paper was intended for advanced seventh-years and professors. As a _first-year_ , you were able to conceptualize it well enough to identify it and explain how to dismantle it to other first-years, and all you required were a few definitions of terms.” 

Sally-Anne blushed. 

“But it made so much sense after Hermione explained some Arithmancy to me. It just sort of… clicked, I guess.” 

“Then that means that Ms. Granger is a good teacher,” Bathsheda said. “ _You_ are a good student, and it would be my pleasure to teach you.” 

“Thank you, Ma’am,” Sally-Anne said. “If that’s a tattoo, I’ll need to ask my folks first.” 

“Why?” 

“They don’t like the idea of me having a tattoo.” 

“Is there a problem?” 

“Well, Mum says it hurts a little to get one, and my hand would be sore for a few days, and Dad doesn’t like the idea of me ‘permanently defacing my beautiful skin’.” 

“My apologies, I should’ve realized that Muggles have different ways of drawing tattoos. With magic, it’s completely painless and easily removed. Not to mention, the base component only takes five minutes to draw.” 

“Oh,” Sally-Anne replied. She was still sure that she should ask her parents, but she _really_ wanted to try that spell. Her mind was reeling with the possibilities. “Can you do it now?” 

“Of course,” Professor Babbling said, producing her wand. “I’ll just need you to hold your hand still.” 

Sally-Anne placed her right hand on the desk. 

“Other hand, Sally-Anne,” Bathsheda said. “You’re right-handed, correct?” 

“Yes.” 

“Then you’ll want to use your right hand for your wand, and your left hand for the rune.” 

“Oh. I hadn’t thought of that,” the second-year said, placing her left hand on the desk. 

“It’s alright,” Bathsheda said. “I did the same thing myself when I first got the runes.” 

Professor Babbling began to run her wand along the girl’s left palm. After a minute, black lines began to appear on her hand. 

“Didn’t you say runes are strongest when engraved in stone?” asked Sally-Anne. 

“That’s true for most runes,” Professor Babbling replied. “This rune was designed specifically to be tattooed on human flesh. That’s why it looks different to those that you saw in the prison. Those also needed to be able to be inverted, whereas these don’t. In fact, it’s more beneficial to the user if these runes _can’t_ be countered.” 

Sally-Anne wasn’t sure that she was interested in runes nearly as much as Hermione was interested in Arithmancy, but she was sure of one thing: She _was_ interested in _these_ runes. 

* * *

Meanwhile, Sally-Anne’s friends had found Luna. The poor Ravenclaw was getting harassed by a group of Ravenclaw students. 

“What’s the matter, Loony?” one of them jeered. “Can’t find your shoes?” 

“Not yet, but I’m sure I will,” Luna said calmly. “I’m sure it was just Nargles again.” 

This got several snickers out of her housemates. 

“I don’t understand,” Luna said. “Why are you laughing? Haven’t you heard of Nargles?” 

“Did you read about those in the Quibbler?” sneered one of her housemates. 

“Daddy just published an article about them,” Luna said. “I’d show you, but I can’t find my copy.” 

“Well, maybe the Nargles took it,” mocked another one. 

Hermione had the worst feeling watching them. The other students were slowly backing Luna into a wall. There were four of them, so they were easily able to cover all the girl’s escape routes. Why did everything have to turn out so badly here? Maybe it was the lack of supervision. Hermione wondered if granting the portraits the ability to deduct house points would fix that. 

“May I please leave?” asked Luna, apparently oblivious to the intentions of her classmates. “I would like to return to my search for my shoes. My feet are starting to get cold.” 

“But we’re having such a nice chat,” one of the Ravenclaws said. 

“It doesn’t look like it,” Hermione blurted out, drawing attention to their group. 

The Ravenclaws turned to see the group of Gryffindors in the hallway. 

“What do you four want?” asked one of the Ravenclaws. 

Unlike the Slytherins, Ravenclaws were too advanced to believe in the mindless rumors about Rose Peta-Lorrum. There was no way a first-year could do _any_ of the things people claimed she did. 

“ _I_ was wondering why you were backing my friend against the wall,” Rose said, moving to the front of the group to give herself a clear line of sight to the unnamed Ravenclaw mooks. 

Hermione began to step away from Rose, hoping to avoid getting hit by a misfired spell. 

Harry and Ron followed suit. This wasn’t their fight. 

“ _Friend_?!” one of them scoffed. “Who’d be friends with _Loony_?!” 

“I would,” Rose said, noticing that her friends were stepping back to give her more room to work. “I think the better question is, who _wouldn’t_ be friends with her? Her hair’s like a beam of sunlight, and her voice sounds like a summer breeze. Not to mention, she’s the only person on this plane that make sense.” She turned to Hermione. “No offence, Hermione.” 

Hermione smiled and took a step back, hoping Rose wouldn’t involve her further in the conflict. 

“What, are you in love?” jeered one of the students. 

“Yeah right,” another one added. “The only woman who’d love Loony is her mum!” 

Rose and Luna both flinched at the mention of Luna’s mum as the Ravenclaws laughed. 

Rose looked at the familiar scene, and for a moment she was back at Arcrel, backed into a corner by He’la Kal’ah and his goons. She should’ve been safe at Arcrel, just as Luna should’ve been safe at Hogwarts. 

They were supposed to be safe. 

* * *

**Arcrel, Faera**

**Exact Time Unknown**

“Ali! Ali!” 

Rose didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t do anything other than cry for help. It was happening again. He’la Kal’ah had cornered her after Alice had left her alone for a minute. 

Rose was supposed to be safe at Arcrel, but she wasn’t. People like Kal’ah kept making her life miserable. Would she ever be safe? Would Kal’ah just keep finding her, no matter what happened? How did he always know where she was? Did he keep following her after class? 

A lot of questions fluttered around Rose’s brains like butterflies, but there was one that was more important than the rest: Where was Alice? 

“Ali!” 

“No one’s coming for you, _Singya_ ,” Kal’ah sneered. “That arrogant brat Thra’la’s gone, and so is that other piece of filth with the pink hair.” 

“Ali isn’t a piece of filth,” Rose murmured, “and don’t talk that way about my brother.” 

“You’re not the boss of _me_!” spat Kal’ah. “Don’t you _dare_ order me around, _Singya_!” 

He and the three members of his fan club had her backed up against a wall. There was nowhere to run. 

He raised his fist, ready to punch her. 

It was happening again, just like before. Kal’ah was going to beat her again. Would he kill her this time? Rose squeezed her eyes shut, begging for it all to be over. Why did this keep happening? 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” 

Rose opened her eyes when she heard Alice’s voice. 

The older girl had grabbed Kal’ah’s arm and twisted it behind his back. 

Kal’ah’s face contorted as Alice pulled his arm back further. 

“Don’t you know that I’m the Grand Queen of Arcrel?” asked Alice, “and picking on other students is punishable by slow, painful torture?” 

“Don’t you _dare_ –” Kal’ah began as he attempted to jab Alice with his elbow. 

Before Kal’ah could finish his sentence, Alice spun around, dragging Kal’ah with her. She hurled him into one of his flunkies, dropping them both. The other two went for her, but she grabbed both of their arms and slammed them into one another. 

As his crew fell to the ground, Kal’ah tried to climb to his feet, but was stopped by Alice planting her boot on his chest. 

“Listen closely, Kal’ah,” Alice said. “The Elves have tried to arrest me 12 times, and on each one, I successfully resisted arrest. That means you _can’t_ have me arrested. So if you even _think_ about coming after Rose again, remember that I’m not going _anywhere_. I will stop you each time you come after her. And before you think you can have me removed, remember that you have to go through Professor Ozerl first, and he’ll listen to me over you _every_ time.” 

Alice lifted her boot, and Kal’ah made a run for it, his fan club at his heels. 

“Remember, Rose Peta-Lorrum is _under my protection_ ,” she said, emphasizing each word as she said it, “and anyone who crosses _her_ crosses _me_.” 

“I’ll get you for this!” Kal’ah shouted. 

“No, you won’t!” Alice called back. 

She turned to Rose, who was curled up in a ball on the ground. 

“It’s alright, Rosie,” Alice said, helping the other Human girl up off the ground. “Arcrel’s your home, and I’m going to make sure that you’re safe in it. Now come on. How about I make us both a nice cup of hot cocoa? That always cheers me up when I’ve had a rotten day.” 

Rose smiled and hugged her savior. 

“Thanks, Wonder Girl.” 

Alice laughed, hugging the crimson-haired girl. 

“I’m not a superhero, Rose.” 

“You’re _my_ superhero, Ali. You’re the best big sister ever.” 

Alice smiled. 

“You know, I’ve always wanted a little sister.” 

* * *

Hermione stared in shock. Not only had the girl’s housemates probably stolen her _shoes_ of all things, they were teasing her about her mum being dead! 

The unnamed Ravenclaw NPCs floated up to the ceiling, and Rose advanced on her prey. 

“Silly Ravenclaws,” Rose said. “Don’t you know that mocking a student about dead parents is punishable by slow, painful torture?” 

“Let us down!” 

“No,” Rose replied. “It’s a shame that I can’t persist _reverse gravity_.” Her face lit up. “Oh! I know! I can encase you in rock until you suffocate!” 

“Is she serious?” one of them asked. 

“Of course,” Rose replied. “Although, I could also turn you to stone for the rest of your lives. I wonder if I can _plane shift_ you to the Elemental Plane of Fire. Or open a _gate_ to the Elemental Plane of Fire. You know what? I think I’ll just set you on fire.” 

Rose raised her wand. 

“Rose!” Hermione shouted. 

“Bit busy, Hermione,” Rose replied. 

She aimed her wand just above one of the students’ heads, and a green ray lanced out of it. The ray struck the ceiling beside the student and it turned to dust. 

The four students stared at her in horror as they realized that the rumors about the girl _were_ true. 

“Apologize to Luna.” 

“We’re sorry, Loon– Luna!” 

“Promise not to take her belongings!” 

“We promise!” 

“Tell her you love her!” 

“What?!” 

Rose fired another green beam at the Ravenclaws, taking out another chunk of the ceiling. 

“We love you, Luna!” 

Rose snapped her fingers, and the Ravenclaws fell to the ground. 

“Spread the word: Luna Lovegood is _under my protection_ ,” Rose said, emphasizing each word, just as her sister had done when fending off Kal’ah, “and anyone who crosses _her_ crosses _me_.” 

The Ravenclaws slowly climbed to their feet, staring at Rose. 

“Well?!” Rose shouted. “You can’t spread the word from here! Go! _RUN!_ ” 

Rose’s voice echoed through the halls as Luna’s attackers ran off, desperate to get away from Rose. 

Rose grinned as she watched the terrified Ravenclaws flee from her, then turned to Luna. 

“When I was a little girl, my parents died. One of the students at my old school told me that I should’ve died with them. He got away with nearly killing me. I’m not gonna let that happen to you, Luna. I’m gonna keep you safe, just like my big sister did for me.” 

Luna smiled. “Thank you, Rose. That’s very kind of you.” 


	8. A Normal Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the year continues to be normal for our protagonists.

**Disclaimer:** I’m not sure that J.K. Rowling has normal years now that she owns Harry Potter. 

* * *

Sally-Anne didn’t look up from her hand once on her way to the Great Hall. 

Professor Babbling had shown her how to use the Shield Rune, and the two spent the rest of the time practicing until Sally-Anne was able to conjure the shield. Dinner had already started by the time they’d finished. 

When she reached the Great Hall, she spotted three of her friends eating dinner. Rose was nowhere to be found. 

“Hello, everyone,” Sally-Anne said as she sat down. “How was your afternoon?” 

“We found Luna,” Ron said. 

“What happened?” asked Sally-Anne. 

“We found her and she was getting picked on by four Ravenclaws,” Harry said. “That’s how it _started_ , then…” 

“It ended with them running away shouting ‘We love you, Luna’,” Ron said, grinning. 

“They mocked Luna about her mum,” Hermione said, “and that set off Rose, who decided to throw them up on the ceiling and threaten to set them on fire.” 

“Where is Rose?” asked Sally-Anne. 

“Don’t know,” Harry said. 

“She stayed to talk with Luna,” Hermione said. “Luna supposedly has to eat, so I’m sure they’ll be back soon.” 

Sally-Anne collected some food for herself, having worked up an appetite practicing with the shield rune for so long. When she _had_ gotten it, it had been just barely. Professor Babbling worked her hard, but assured her that it would be worth it in the end. It took a lot of discipline to master the shield rune, and the Ancient Runes Professor insisted that Sally-Anne was well on her way, and most people didn’t get it for at least a few days. 

“Sally-Anne, what’s that on your hand?” asked Harry, once again reaping the benefits of enhanced senses provided by his glasses. 

“What’s what?” Sally-Anne asked, turning her left palm away from her friend. 

Professor Babbling had told her that she hadn’t been strictly following the rules when she printed the rune on the second-year’s hand, so keeping it to themselves was the best idea for the moment. 

“It looked like you wrote something on your hand,” Harry said. 

Ron and Hermione both glanced over at the dirty-blonde, but neither saw what Harry was seeing. 

“It’s nothing,” Sally-Anne said quickly. “Just… just some notes I was taking. I didn’t think to bring a notebook with me, so I had to write it down on my hand.” 

“Alright,” Harry said. 

“Why were you trying to hide it?” Hermione asked. 

“It’s just… er… I thought it was a little silly that I had to take notes,” Sally-Anne said. “I wasn’t expecting to learn anything, I thought she just wanted to talk about the dimensional prison again.” 

Why was lying coming so easily to her? She _hated_ lying to her friends, but it was so _easy_. Was it the ribbon Rose gave her? It made it easier to talk to people, but did it make it easier for her to _lie_ to them too? That would be _awful_! Sally-Anne didn’t want to lie to people, especially her friends. 

“Alright,” Hermione said. “You’re not… embarrassed by that, are you?” 

“A little,” Sally-Anne replied. “I didn’t think I’d need to take notes, and then I was upset that I didn’t have a notebook, and I don’t like writing on my hand.” 

“You _didn’t_ have a notebook?!” 

The four Gryffindors jumped as they realized that Rose had appeared next to them at the table. 

“Rose, where did you come from?!” exclaimed Ron. 

“Salutations!” Rose exclaimed. 

Luna sat beside her, holding one of Rose’s mugs in her hands. 

“Hello,” Luna said between sips of what was probably hot cocoa. 

“Is she allowed to be here?” asked Ron. 

“Rose or Luna?” asked Harry. 

“The Ravenclaw,” Ron said with a hint of contempt. 

Sally-Anne had realized that the red-head took the house competition quite seriously, so to him it was like having the Wicked Witch of the West having tea with Glinda the Good Witch of the North. 

“Am I breaking the rules?” gasped Rose. “Oh no! I’ll just go turn myself into the authorities right now. I would _never_ want to be in trouble!” 

“Sarcasm noted,” Hermione said. “I don’t think there’s anything _against_ sitting at a different table, it just doesn’t usually happen.” 

Hermione noticed that Ron was still staring at Luna suspiciously. She kicked him under the table. 

“Ow!” whined Ron. “What was that for?!” 

“Stop staring at Luna like she’s going to blow up the table!” shouted Hermione. “She’s not Rose!” 

Rose turned to Luna. “I don’t know to what they’re referring, as I have _never_ blown up a _table_.” 

“I think Hogwarts has got a wrackspurts infestation at the moment, so that might be why she’s confused,” Luna said in her usual, calm voice. 

“Is _she_ calling _us_ mad?” Ron whispered. 

* * *

Saturday morning, Rose and Hermione pretended not to notice Fred and George sneaking out before curfew was over. 

_It’s not as if they’ll listen if I tell them not to,_ Hermione told herself before returning to her book. 

Since neither Rose nor Hermione needed much sleep, they had started spending time quietly in the common room. 

The sun was just peeking out over the horizon, which Hermione was beginning to suspect changed every day. Not just the _horizon_ , but the actual time itself. Some days the sun would rise _earlier_ than it had the previous morning, rather than later, like it should be doing at that time of year. 

“Where is it?!” 

Rose and Hermione looked over to see Ginny coming down the stairs, frantically talking to herself. 

“Where’s what?” Hermione asked, looking up from her book. 

“Where is it?!” Ginny exclaimed again, looking through the bookshelves. 

“Are _you_ going to tell us, or is Ref?” asked Rose. 

“Who’s Ref?” asked Ginny, not so much as sparing them a glance. 

“Her imaginary friend that can read peoples’ minds,” Hermione replied, returning to her book. 

Ginny abruptly stopped what she was doing and stared at Rose in disbelief, who smiled and nodded to reassure the red-head that her imaginary friend could in fact read peoples’ minds. 

Hermione was all for helping the young girl. It had to be tough on her, growing up with however many brothers she had, two of which were Fred and George. If Ron’s inferiority complex was that bad, who knew how bad _Ginny’s_ must be. 

Hermione began to count off Weasleys in her head while Ginny continued searching the common room for something. 

_Percy, Ron, George, Fred, Ginny_ , Hermione thought. _Which one taught Ron chess? Charlie, right? Then there was one more. What was it? Bill! He’s the oldest, I think. Wait, isn’t their father’s name Arthur? Doesn’t that mean that it goes Arthur, Bill, Charlie? That sounds like the start of a maths problem!_

“Hermione!” 

Hermione snapped out of her musings and looked up at Ginny. 

“Have you seen my diary?” Ginny asked again. 

“The one you found in your cauldron?” Hermione asked. 

“Yeah!” Ginny said. “I had it last night when I went to bed, and now it’s gone.” 

“Only one of the girls could’ve taken it,” Hermione said. “Boys can’t get up the stairs to the girls’ rooms.” 

“Really?” asked Ginny. 

“Yeah, didn’t your prefect mention that?” asked Hermione. 

“No,” Ginny snapped. “Look, can you help me or not?” 

Hermione turned to Rose, who had her head tilted to the side as she stared up at the ceiling. 

“Rose, can you find it?” 

Rose summoned her wand to her hand and whispered something Hermione didn’t understand. 

“What did she say?” Ginny asked. 

Rose lowered her wand and began to skip out of the common room. 

“We’d better follow her,” Hermione said, giving up on finishing her book. 

She could let Ginny go with Rose, but it seemed mean to leave a first-year alone with the crimson-haired girl. 

Hermione realized that she had done the same thing with Luna a week ago, but dismissed it on the grounds that Luna was already similar enough to Rose that no further damage could be done. It was for this reason that Hermione had been keeping a closer eye on the young Ravenclaw, watching for anything that seemed out of the ordinary. 

Anyone could see that there was something different about Luna, which had already resulted in her getting picked on by a group of her own housemates. Hermione could understand different; _she_ was different, after all. What she _couldn’t_ understand was the first-year’s unique ability to understand Rose. 

Between Hermione and Sally-Anne, the girls had a vast knowledge of fiction and non-fiction, and neither girl recognized _most_ of the terms that Rose used. Even _Professor Dumbledore_ didn’t understand her sometimes, but Luna _did_. Luna understood Rose _all_ the time. Five times in the past week the pair had started off on a conversation that made no sense to anyone but them. That couldn’t be a coincidence. 

Given all of this, Hermione had arrived at her current theory: Luna was from Rose’s world. 

“Hermione, you’re lost in thought again,” Rose said. 

“I’m sorry,” Hermione said. “What were you saying?” 

Hermione looked up and found what the problem was. The three girls had found their way to a wall. Not just any wall, but a wall in the middle of a corridor. 

“What are we doing?!” fumed Ginny, losing patience. 

“This wall wasn’t here yesterday,” Rose said, looking the wall up and down. “And your diary should be behind it.” 

Hermione looked around the corridor, taking in her surroundings for the first time. 

“Rose, are we–” 

“Near the Room, yes,” Rose said, pressing her ear to the wall. She knocked on it a few times, then asked, “Who put you here?” 

“Is she talking to the wall?” Ginny snapped. 

“Looks like it,” Hermione said. “She does that.” 

“Really?!” shouted Ginny. 

“Ginny, relax,” Hermione lectured. 

“No! This isn’t funny! If you’re not going to help, then I’ll just find it on my own!” 

Ginny stormed off back in the direction of Gryffindor Tower. 

Hermione watched the youngest Weasley leave, then turned to Rose just in time to see the crimson-haired girl lick the wall. 

“Rose, why are you licking the wall?” Hermione sighed. 

“Yup, tastes like a wall,” Rose said. “Best way to tell if a wall is really a wall is to taste test it.” 

Hermione eyed her friend. “I’m not sure that’s right.” 

“Of course it is!” Rose said, beaming. “Alice told me that!” 

“Of course she did,” sighed Hermione. “Rose, your sister’s weird.” 

“Nah, _she’s_ normal. It’s everyone _else_ that’s weird!” 

Hermione stared at her friend for a few more moments, then turned to the wall. “So this wall just popped up?” 

“Looks like it,” Rose replied. She held her finger to her face, and whispered something that sounded identical to her incantation from earlier. “It’s moved.” 

“The diary?” asked Hermione. 

“No, the wall,” Rose said, her face neutral. 

“Rose.” 

“The diary isn’t behind the wall anymore,” Rose said. “It’s… in Ravenclaw Tower, I think.” 

“You know we’re technically not supposed to be out of our common room,” Hermione said. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to go much further. Actually, I’m surprised we haven’t gotten caught yet.” 

“I’m surprised that you willingly risked getting in trouble,” Rose said, grinning. “I’m so proud of you!” 

“I figured it might be a little much for Ginny to be left alone with you,” Hermione said. 

“I am pretty great,” Rose replied. “It can be a little overwhelming for new people.” 

“Yeah, sure,” Hermione said, not all that comfortable breaking a rule. “Can we please get back to Gryffindor Tower now?” 

“Fine,” Rose said. “We can investigate later.” 

As they returned to Gryffindor Tower, Hermione remembered that she’d seen Fred and George running out of the common room. 

“Do you think Fred and George took it?” Hermione asked. 

“Possibly,” Rose replied. “I’ll ask them.” 

Rose broke off from her group on the way to breakfast to intercept the Weasley Twins. After they refused to cooperate, Rose stuck them on the ceiling, which convinced them that it was better to agree with her. 

“We haven’t got it,” Fred said. 

“We passed it off to one of the Ravenclaws when we realized that Ginny was on to us.” 

“How’d you get it in the first place?” Rose asked. 

“Used our brooms,” George said, grinning. “Thanks for that.” 

“You should be so proud of yourself for stealing from an 11-year-old,” Rose said, aiming her wand at them. 

“Alright, we’ll get it back to her! Can we get down now?” 

Rose snapped her fingers, and the boys fell to the floor. 

“See that you do,” Rose said before skipping to the Great Hall. 

* * *

Luna joined them at meals now and then, and when she didn’t, Rose sat with her at the Ravenclaw table, much to the distaste of the rest of Ravenclaw House. 

Unlike the Ravenclaws, Rose had a blast. She picked up various bits of information about the Ravenclaws by sitting with them. Penelope Clearwater was a nice girl and her relationship with Percy Weasley was progressing well. In fact, they had sent each other letters almost weekly over the summer holiday, explaining why people hardly saw her boyfriend all summer. Rebecca Gamp was growing jealous of Hermione over the Gryffindor’s aptitude for Arithmancy. Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw reserve Seeker, was excited that their current Seeker was graduating at the end of the year. 

There was one question on the minds of _all_ of the Ravenclaws: _Why was Rose Peta-Lorrum sitting at_ their _table?!_

There was a clearing of about five feet around Rose and Luna when the girls sat at the Ravenclaw table. Both girls were happy with the space, since neither particularly _liked_ the other Ravenclaws, and Reflectesalon could still read all of their minds, so Rose was even more happy. 

Ginny was still freaking out about her diary being missing, although it turned up a few days later. 

September slowly turned into October, and Rose continued to have a bad feeling. Making this worse were the several times at night when she swore she heard someone whispering her name in the halls. Her _blindsight_ wasn’t tripped by anything, and she could see perfectly through darkness, so she knew no one was there. 

It wasn’t that Rose was scared. She had seen horrors that none of the students could endure without going mad. Fortunately, Rose was still a shining example of sanity, just as she had always been. So it didn’t scare her to hear voices, it _annoyed_ her. She wanted to know from whom the voices originated. 

One day in Transfigurations, she was attempting to piece all of this together in her mind when she heard someone calling her name again. 

Looking around the room, it was undeniable that anyone had whispered her name. 

“ _Rose_.” 

If no one had whispered her name, then what was that? 

“ _ROSE!_ ” 

Rose jumped as the voice suddenly got louder. 

“Ms. Peta-Lorrum, are you alright?” Minerva asked, a little startled by the girl’s sudden movement. 

“I’m okay,” Rose said. “Just startled myself.” 

“ _ROSE!_ ” 

Rose looked around again, but there was nothing there. 

“ _ROSE! ROSE! ROSE!_ ” 

More voices joined the first, and she began to wince as they screeched her name. This wasn’t the same as last year when the castle had begun to shout, but it was working its way there. 

“Professor McGonagall?” Rose asked after a minute. 

“Yes, Ms. Peta-Lorrum?” 

“Am I still supposed to tell you when I start hearing voices?” 

Minerva held back a sigh. 

_So much for her behaving like a normal girl._

“Yes. Are you hearing them now?” 

As if in answer to her question, the crimson-haired second-year winced. 

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’,” Minerva replied, turning to the portrait of Matron Tressa. 

“Inform Poppy that Ms. Peta-Lorrum will be there shortly,” Minerva said. “If she isn’t there in ten minutes–” 

“Three rounds.” 

Minerva turned to the girl. She was beginning to tremble, her reaction nearly mirroring that of the previous year. 

“I’m sorry?” 

“I should be there in three rounds,” she replied, shakily producing her wand. “One to _power surge_ _Serendipity_ , one to cast _deafness_ on myself, and a third to _dim door_ to the Hospital Wing.” 

Minerva turned back to Matron Tressa. “If Ms. Peta-Lorrum isn’t there when you get there, tell Poppy to run.” 

“Yes, Ma’am,” the woman in the portrait replied, vanishing from the canvas. 

All Rose had to do to keep herself calm was to focus. It wasn’t like last year where she might get some information out of it, but instead it was just white noise. Shadow had reminded her last year that using _deafness_ removed any potential for gathering information, but that wasn’t here this time. 

Rose closed her eyes and attempted to block out the noise. She could still hear her breathing and forced herself to focus solely on that. 

“ _Deafness_.” 

All at once, the sound cut out around her. She could no longer hear anything at all, but could hear Reflectesalon’s voice in her head. It was calm, smooth, and soft. Compared to the screaming voices of the castle, Reflectesalon’s voice felt like a soft, woolen blanket on a cold winter’s night. 

<Ms. Peta-Lorrum, are you alright?>

“I’m okay,” Rose said. “I can’t hear them anymore, but I also can’t hear _you_ , so I’m going to go to the Hospital Wing now.” 

<What do you mean ‘You can’t hear me?’> Reflectesalon relayed to her. 

“I’ll explain later,” Rose said, excusing herself from her chair and walking to the classroom entrance. 

“Stop!” Professor McGonagall exclaimed, startling many of the students. A second after she gave the order, Rose stopped walking. 

“I’m not allowing you to walk out of this room without an escort, Ms. Peta-Lorrum!” 

“Fair enough,” Rose replied, glancing over her shoulder. 

True to her word, Rose didn’t walk out of the room. Instead, she burst into a thin cloud of rose petals, each of which vanished from sight as it touched the stone floor. 

* * *

Shortly after Matron Tressa’s portrait began raving about another incident in the Transfigurations classroom, Rose Peta-Lorrum showed up at the Hospital Wing. 

“Ms. Peta-Lorrum, are you hearing voices again?” Poppy asked. 

At first, the girl didn’t react to Poppy. She continued to stare into space, as if she hadn’t even heard her. 

After a few seconds, the girl turned her head towards Poppy and replied, “Not at the moment, but I can’t hear _anything_ at the moment.” 

“Why don’t you sit down in one of the beds and explain what happened.” 

“Okay,” the girl of questionable health replied after another short delay. She sat down on one of the beds, bouncing on it for a few seconds as she always did. 

“I began to hear voices in the middle of class today, but they were calling my name this time. It’s actually been happening a lot lately, but never this loud.” 

“Are you hearing voices a lot?” asked Poppy. 

_That_ wasn’t a good sign. One or two isolated incidents could easily be dismissed, as the Headmaster had taken a liking to the strange girl, but frequently was too much to ignore. Albus’s personal feelings aside, they had to think about the students. If this girl was losing her mind, then Poppy wanted to transfer her to St. Mungo’s. She was sure they’d be happy that she was sending them someone _other_ than Neville Longbottom, if she had to send them anyone at all. 

“Every now and then I’ll hear someone calling my name at night,” Rose said, specifically leaving out the bits about her not being in her room at the time. “But today was a lot worse. It was a lot like last year, but the voices just kept shouting my name. I don’t know why yet, but I deafened myself before it got worse.” 

Poppy took in all of this information, staring at the girl in disbelief. It had to be some childish trick. That was the only plausible explanation for her acting this way. 

“If you’re deaf, how are you responding to me?” 

Once again after a few second delay, the girl replied, “ _I_ can’t hear you, but _Ref_ can. He’s relaying all of your words to me right now.” 

“Is that why it’s taking you so long to reply?” 

“Yup!” 

Poppy eyed the girl again, then turned to another portrait in the Hospital Wing. 

“Fetch Albus. Tell him it’s an emergency.” 

“Yes, Ma’am,” the elderly man in the painting replied. 

Poppy wasn’t sure what to believe anymore. If it had been any other student, she would’ve written it off as some sort of prank. She didn’t really see the point to it, other than getting out of class, but that was enough for most students. If that _had_ been the intention, then why go to the Hospital Wing? Minerva had foolishly left the girl alone to bring herself to the Hospital Wing, although how the girl had managed to get there almost as quickly as Matron Tressa was beyond Poppy. The lack of an escort had given the girl the opportunity to roam the castle freely instead of being in class, but she had dutifully gone to the Hospital Wing, which implied that something really _was_ wrong with her. 

Strangely enough, _that_ was the part that made sense to Poppy. What _didn’t_ make sense was how the girl was reacting. The girl wasn’t reacting at all like she had the previous year during a similar incident. She seemed content as she sat in her chosen bed. If the girl was deaf, how was she reacting to Poppy’s words? If one of the girl’s “imaginary friends” really could hear her, then how was _it_ communicating the words back to the girl? 

“What seems to be the trouble, Poppy?” 

Rose and Madame Pomfrey turned to see Professor Dumbledore entering the Hospital Wing. 

“Ah, Ms. Peta-Lorrum,” the Headmaster said. “Is everything alright?” 

After a few moments, she replied, “Castle’s talking again.” 

_That_ was unexpected. When Albus saw the second-year in the Hospital Wing, he simply assumed that she had begun using some other strange spell that was scaring her teachers. 

Last year when Rose had heard the castle screaming at her, Albus had sensed the castle shifting uncomfortably at the same time, but he hadn’t felt anything this time. That didn’t bode well for the young girl from another world. In fact, that implied that she was simply going mad. 

Albus tried not to assume anything about Rose Peta-Lorrum. He had met some strange creatures that resembled humans but weren’t, so he was trying not to operate under the assumption that Rose was entirely human herself, despite claiming to be. Failing that, it was possible that her humans were different from their humans. 

“If it’s alright, I’d like to talk with Ms. Peta-Lorrum alone,” Albus said to the mediwitch. 

Poppy took one last look at both of them before retiring to her office for the foreseeable future. 

Albus sat down on the bed next to the crimson-haired second-year. 

“Rose, does this often happen in your world?” he asked. 

After a few moments, Rose held up her finger, then muttered something under her breath. 

“If the castle can speak, it might be able to listen,” Rose said. “And to answer your question: Not usually. There are all sorts of spells for telepathic communication, or pathing, but I’m not sure what this is.” 

“Why are you taking so long to respond?” 

“I’m currently deaf,” she replied. “Ref can hear you, so he’s–” 

“Functioning as your ears because he _can’t_ understand the castle,” Albus finished. “You did the same thing last year. What exactly _is_ Ref?” 

“He’s called an ‘item familiar’,” Rose said. “He used to be my mum’s, but she passed him onto me before she died. The bond I formed with him caused him to become intelligent, and as I grew, he grew with me. Now he can detect magic, although we discovered not _your_ kind of magic, see and hear, and read minds. We also communicate with one another telepathically.” 

“Interesting,” Albus said, genuinely interested by the girl’s story. He was also pleased to know that even after everything he had experienced, he still had much left to learn, and Albus liked learning. 

“He also gives me bonuses to XP and skills.” 

“That’s clever, using his abilities like that,” Dumbledore said. 

“Thank you,” Rose said, beaming. “I learned from the best!” 

“From whom did you learn?” 

“A lot of my tricks I learned from my uncle or my brother.” She smiled. “You’d like Uncle Oz. In fact, you remind me a lot of him. He’s got this aura of omniscience about him too.” 

“Ah, _that’s_ why you called me ‘Oz’ last spring,” Dumbledore said. “I didn’t understand that at the time, and believed it to be a reference to a Muggle film, which didn’t make sense.” 

“What’s a ‘film’?” 

“Precisely why I didn’t think it made sense for you to reference _The Wizard of Oz_.” 

“Nah, Uncle Oz isn’t a Wizard! He’s an Artificer like me! _Sk’lar’s_ a Wizard!” 

“I take it wizards are different in your world?” 

“Completely,” Rose replied. “They don’t typically use wands, but they do need to study a spellbook every morning. They’ve got a much more limited number of castings per day than what you lot have got, which I think is unlimited.” 

“So long as we don’t tire, we can keep casting as much as necessary.” 

“Sk’lar needs to memorize his spells every morning. They’re far more complicated than in this world.” 

“Once again, interesting, but I think we need to get back to the issue at hand.” 

“Hold on,” Rose said. She readied an action to cast _deafness_ if she heard so much as a peep, then dismissed _deafness_. 

The calm silence was a relief to Rose. 

“All gone,” she said. “And I can hear again.” 

<Thanks, Ref.>

<I’m happy to be of assistance, Rose.>

“I’m glad you are alright, but I’m not sure that it was the castle you heard.” 

Rose cocked her head. “Why not?” 

“Because last year both the house-elves and I were able to feel something amiss at the same time that you heard the castle,” Professor Dumbledore explained. “But neither of us felt anything this time.” 

“What about on Hallowe’en?” asked Rose. “I heard something going on then, too.” 

“That’s the other problem,” Dumbledore said. “We didn’t feel anything then either, but I assume what you heard was the castle complaining about whatever it was you killed and destroyed.” 

“The abomination of nature?” 

“The dragon, yes.” 

Rose scowled, but Professor Dumbledore ignored her distaste. 

“So you’re saying what I heard on Hallowe’en was a reaction to that thing?” 

“I believe so,” Professor Dumbledore replied. “If that _is_ the case, then it’s possible that something _else_ is moving around in the castle right now.” 

“You don’t think it’s another dragon, do you?” Rose asked, ignoring the bad taste in her mouth left by the word “dragon”. 

“I would hope not,” Professor Dumbledore said. “But Rose, I will be honest with you. If nothing shows up, then I cannot vouch for you. I will have no proof that the voices you heard were anything other than imaginary.” 

Rose nodded. 

“And I don’t mean to scare you, but many of the staff members are asking for you to be removed.” 

“Not Professor Snape, though. He and I are best friends!” 

Albus nearly laughed. Severus had registered almost as many complaints about _Rose_ last year that the entire student body had registered about _Severus_. 

“I’m not going to point any fingers,” Albus said, keeping himself collected. “I just want you to understand how delicate the situation already is.” 

“I show up from nowhere, just so happen to be in Harry Potter’s class, pull off magic that no one has ever seen here before, and have random psychotic episodes,” Rose said, reciting something Carolina had mentioned to her. “Carolina pointed out how bad I must seem. She’s a lot better with people than… everyone.” 

“Then you aren’t surprised that the staff must want you removed?” 

“Not at all,” Rose said. “According to Carolina, it would be strange if they _didn’t_ want me removed, and Uncle Oz agreed with her, so it must be true!” 

“I’m glad you understand,” Albus said, rising from his spot on the bed. “Thank you for informing Professor McGonagall immediately.” 

“You’re welcome!” 

“I’m sure you’ll want to tell your friends about this, so I’ll let you talk with them.” 

Rose tilted her head in confusion. 

“Your friends have mentioned that you have conversations with your ‘imaginary friends’ from time to time,” Albus informed the confused “child”. “Not directly to me, but they expressed concern about it to Ms. Nertlyn, who informed Professor McGonagall, who informed me.” 

“Oh,” Rose said. 

“I figured that must be you talking to your friends back home, most likely through… what did you call it? ‘Pathing’?” 

“Yup!” Rose exclaimed cheerfully. “Telepathic network that links us across planes! On the same plane, we get the _status_ of all the members! It’s _kethé_!” 

“I see,” Albus said. Was it possible for anyone on their “plane” to speak with her friends back in her world? Albus filed it away in his mind desk for a later date. He did have the desire to speak with her “imaginary friends”, as he figured the experience would be quite interesting. 

“Until the next time, Rose,” he said. “Hopefully, we’ll next bump into each other under better circumstances.” 

“Or may we meet on the same side in combat!” Rose exclaimed, beaming. 

This time, it was Albus’s turn to be confused, but he quickly dismissed it. He had no idea what Rose’s world was like, so for all he knew, combat was the only way to survive. Maybe her world was in a constant state of warfare. Her parents were dead, so maybe orphans weren’t uncommon. 

* * *

**Note:** Luna isn’t _really_ from Rose’s world in this version of the HP universe. She’s still Luna. 


	9. Talking Crazy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we realize that Carolina can practically read minds, and the professors have a friendly meeting that doesn't involve violence.

**Disclaimer:** I’m sure no one ever questioned J.K. Rowling’s sanity when she claimed to own Harry Potter! 

* * *

<Alice! Eom.>

<Bit busy fighting for my life, Rosie.>

<Okay,> Rose replied. This had happened once before last year when Rose was having nightmares after her encounter with the dragon. Fortunately, this meant that she knew exactly what to do. 

<Shadow! Alice needs your help! Can you help her?! Eom.>

<Depends,> came her friend’s reply, <does she _really_ need my help, or do you just want her to finish a fight faster so you can talk to us? Eom. >

Rose paused for a moment. Shadow was too clever! Worse, Rose _loved_ it when Shadow was clever! It was so exciting watching Shadow work her way through a problem. The way her mask would completely conceal her face, betraying no emotion… 

<Maybe.>

<Rose, you know that even after all of this time, there’s still a lot to do here,> Shadow pathed. <What’s so urgent that it can’t wait?>

<The castle screamed at me again!>

This time, there was a pause from Shadow, and the next thing Rose “heard” was Alice’s “voice”. 

<Thanks for sending your girlfriend to help.>

<Don’t pick on her! She just saved you!>

<Are you alright?> Alice asked. <You only ever send Shadow when something’s wrong.>

<I’ve only done that once!> protested Rose. 

<Once, and it was because you had a nightmare about the Abomination,> Alice replied. <So what’s up?>

<Sk’lar will want to know about it,> Shadow pathed. <Whatever it is.>

<Did… Did she just think about someone _else_?! > exclaimed Alice. 

<Oi!> Rose exclaimed. <She thinks about me all the time!>

<Girls, relax,> Sk’lar pathed. <Rose, Shadow said something’s wrong. Eom.>

Rose smiled. Alice was right in that normally Shadow didn’t think about anyone else, or at least not helpfully. Normally it was just “How can _that_ person kill me, and how can I subdue them?”, but when it came to Rose, Shadow made the effort to think “How can I help her?”. In this case, that question yielded the answer “Get her brother.” 

<The castle shouted at me again,> Rose replied. <I don’t know why yet, but I think Professor Dumbledore was worried.>

<That can’t be good,> Alice pathed. <Isn’t he the headmaster guy that’s that plane’s version of Oz?>

<Sort of,> Rose replied. 

<What did it say this time?> asked Shadow. 

<It just shouted my name,> Rose pathed, shrugging despite none of the other members of the conversation could see her. <I don’t know why.>

<Is the castle intelligent?> asked Sk’lar. 

<I think so,> Rose replied, tilting her head to one side. <Do you think it’s trying to contact me?>

<It could be,> Sk’lar replied. <Shadow, what do you think?>

<Why are you two being so friendly all of a sudden?!> shouted Alice. <What did I miss?!>

<I don’t know enough about that world’s magic to make any kind of deduction,> Shadow replied, ignoring Alice. 

<Professor Dumbledore said that he felt something happening in the castle when I first heard the castle,> Rose explained. <Then that thing attacked when I heard it the second time, so he thinks the three incidents are connected. So far, nothing’s come up, but he’s worried that he won’t be able to defend me if this becomes a big incident.>

<So something’s definitely happening,> concluded Alice. 

<What did it sound like?> asked Shadow. <Did it sound the same as before?>

Rose thought back to earlier that day when the voices began screaming at her. She remembered the voices that had been whispering her name the past month, then strained herself to call up the memories of the voices shouting at her last year. 

Last year, it sounded varied, like a whole crowd of people had been shouting at her, but this year it was different. It took Rose a moment, but she worked out the difference. 

<It’s been a different voice,> Rose pathed finally. <Different to the ones last year, but the same one this year. It’s always the same voice.>

<Someone’s trying to talk to you,> Alice pathed. 

<Or someone wants your attention,> added Shadow. 

<Good job, Sweety!> Rose exclaimed. <You’re so clever!>

Alice snickered while Shadow replied, <Thank you, but don’t call me ‘Sweety’.>

<You should talk with one of the professors about this,> pathed Sk’lar. <Preferably Professor Dumbledore. If he’s as similar to Professor Ozerl as you say he is, then he’ll be the most likely to believe you.>

<I sort of did,> Rose replied. <Also, I don’t think Uncle Oz likes it when you call him ‘Professor Ozerl’.>

<Force of habit.>

<I don’t think any of the others would believe me,> Rose agreed, <or they’d think I was crazy.>

<I’m sorry that it’s backfiring on you,> Alice pathed, a little disappointed that her favorite tactic wasn’t working out for her little sister. 

<Nah, it’s fine!> replied Rose cheerfully. <Professor Dumbledore is the only one that I _need_ to believe me. I think the others trust him well enough that they don’t question him. >

<As a headmaster, I know that one’s staff don’t always get along,> Sk’lar pathed. <He may not be able to defend you for much longer.>

<What do I do then?> asked Rose. 

<Make sure you’ve got a backup plan in case you get expelled,> Shadow replied. 

<I’m still not sure why I’m supposed to be here,> Rose pathed. <Supposedly it’s to kill Voldie, and I don’t think I need to be here to do that. However, if I want to find him again, sticking close to Harry is probably the way to go.>

<I’ve got an idea,> Sk’lar pathed. <It’s going to involve Professor Ozerl and Carolina, but I think it might work.>

<Oz is busy right now,> Alice pathed. <It’s still the middle of the afternoon. Actually, I’m surprised _you’re_ not busy, Elf. >

<Oi!> Rose exclaimed. <Be nice to him! He’s my big brother! Talk that way to him again, Ali, and I’ll cram _Raazera_ down your throat! >

Rose and Alice both knew that Rose would never actually harm her older sister, especially when referring to her as “Ali”. 

<It’s alright,> Sk’lar pathed, mostly ignoring his sisters. <I’ll contact Carolina and see if she’s available.>

Rose wasn’t sure what her brother was planning, but it was her brother, so she knew she could trust that this was an actual idea and not an excuse to talk to Carolina. He shouldn’t _need_ excuses to talk to her, they were dating. Rose also knew that relationships were new to Sk’lar, as hugs had been when she first met him, so it wouldn’t surprise her if he didn’t understand that he could talk to her simply because he missed her. 

<I’m here,> Carolina pathed after a moment. <Hey, Rose. Eom.>

<Salutations, Carolina!> Rose pathed. <How are you?>

<I’m alright,> Carolina replied. <Sk’lar said you’re hearing voices again, but he has a plan.>

<Rose, who are the most important professors in Hogwarts apart from Professor Dumbledore?> asked Sk’lar. 

<I don’t know, probably the heads of the four houses,> Rose replied. <That’s Professors McGonagall, Snape, Flitwick, and Sprout.>

<So those four are the most likely four from which Professor Dumbledore would receive counsel?> asked Sk’lar. 

<I think?>

<Would you please describe the four of them to the best of your ability?>

<Sure,> Rose replied, slowly working out her brother’s plan. <Professor McGonagall is his second-in-command. She’s a lot like Carolina: stern, but protective of her people. She also has this look that sort of says ‘ _Become a professor at Hogwarts_ , they said. _It’ll be fun_ , they said. WELL THEY WERE WRONG!’>

Alice and Carolina laughed. Carolina because she knew the feeling all too well, and Alice because she enjoyed inspiring the feeling in others. 

<Alright,> Sk’lar pathed. <Carolina, how do you think Rose can get Professor McGonagall to _not_ expel her? >

<Oooh!> Alice pathed as she realized the plan. <You’re using Nature Girl’s people skills to analyze the staff!>

<Correct, so long as it’s alright with her.>

<It feels wrong,> Carolina pathed. <It feels dishonest. Isn’t that manipulating the staff?>

<Manipulating the staff would be brown-nosing them to get better grades,> Shadow pathed. <This is self-preservation. This is convincing the executioner that it’s a bad idea to cut off your head.>

Throughout their adventures, Carolina had experienced some… _issues_ with the behavior of her teammates. They all knew she meant well, but Bowie and Shadow had learned how to word their intentions in a way that would sit well with Carolina’s conscience. 

<Alright,> Carolina pathed. <If she’s like me, prove that it’s in the best interest of the students that you stay. If you lie to her and she finds out, she’ll have a hard time trusting you again.>

Carolina possessed a unique talent for sensing when other people were lying. She could see straight through her teammates’ respective facades and had drilled down into the real them within a few days of knowing them. Shadow had taken her longer, as the Halfling had actively tried to hide her true nature, but Carolina figured her out eventually. 

Carolina was simply good with people. She cared about people and honestly wanted to help them. She took Vow of Poverty because she believed that the best use of money was spending it on other people (something that Rose sort of understood). Carolina hadn’t just been awarded the title of Saint for sacrificing her life to save an entire city, and possibly all of De’rok, but for being a nearly selfless person. 

<Next is Professor Snape, who is like Shadow,> pathed Rose. 

<Good luck,> Shadow replied. 

<And you’re trying to be his friend,> Carolina added. <You’re on your own, but I think if you lose his trust, you’ll never get it back.>

<I know,> Rose replied. <I think I know how to get to him. He’s beginning to trust me.> Rose grinned. <He’s wearing the pendant I made him!>

<I’m glad!> Carolina replied, genuinely happy that Rose was excited. <Who’s next?>

<Professor Sprout,> replied Rose. <Again, similar to Carolina, but more nurturing than Professor McGonagall, I think. Hufflepuffs are known for their loyalty, and they call her ’Mother Badger’.>

<That’s easy,> Carolina replied, enjoying feeling like one of the smart people. <Even if she doesn’t trust you, she won’t kick out an orphan. Don’t pick on the Hufflepuffs, and you’re fine.>

<Last one is Professor Flitwick,> Rose pathed. <A former duelist, he’s clever, but absentminded.>

<There must be something else,> Sk’lar pathed. <He’s head of the smart house, right?>

<Ravenclaw, yeah,> replied Rose. 

<He can’t be stuck up like your parents,> Carolina pathed. <No way he gets an important position like that. Rose, how does he treat the students?>

<He _loves_ to help, > Rose pathed. 

<There!> Carolina exclaimed. <He likes to teach, that’s why Professor… um… the Headmaster made him the house head! He doesn’t teach to hear himself talk–>

<Like Lockhart,> Rose pathed. 

<But because he likes to teach the students and see them learn,> Carolina pathed. <Show him that you being there helps that. Show him that you help the students.>

<I helped Luna!> exclaimed Rose. <Does that count?>

<It doesn’t hurt,> pathed Carolina. 

<So the best thing for me to do is… to keep doing what I’ve been doing?> Rose asked. 

<But a little less annoying,> Carolina replied. 

Rose was happy that they were helping her. It felt like old times again. She missed working through a problem with her friends. 

<Who else helped Professor Dumbledore ’guard’ the Philosopher’s Stone?> asked Shadow. 

<Mr. Hagrid, Professor Vector, and Professor Babbling,> replied Rose. 

<What do you know about them?> asked Sk’lar. 

<Not much about Mr. Hagrid, but he reminds me a bit of Mr. Grund. All I really know is that he likes Harry _a lot_. >

<Be nice to Harry,> Carolina pathed. <What about the others?>

<I haven’t really met the other two,> Rose pathed. <I could ask Hermione and Sally-Anne! They’re both getting private lessons from them!>

<That’s perfect! Just don’t tell them it’s to try and get on their good side,> Carolina pathed. <I’m still not happy with it.>

<Sorry,> pathed Sk’lar. 

<If I was upset about it, I would’ve stopped,> Carolina replied. 

<I had fun!> exclaimed Rose. 

<I’m glad,> replied Carolina. 

<Feeling better, Rosie?> asked Alice. 

<Yup! Thanks everyone!>

<Take care, Rose,> pathed Carolina. <Carolina out.>

<If you need anything, just let me know,> pathed Sk’lar. <Sk’lar out.>

<Have fun!> exclaimed Alice. <Alice out!>

<Bye, everyone!> exclaimed Rose. <Shadow, thanks for getting Sk’lar for me. I know you still don’t trust the others.>

<You trust them,> Shadow replied. <That’s good enough for the moment. Shadow out.>

Rose smiled and laid back in her temporary bed. 

* * *

That evening, upon Poppy’s request, Albus gathered Minerva, Severus, Septima, Bathsheda, Filius, Pomona, and Poppy together in his office for their annual attempt to expel Rose. 

Poppy gave a brief summary of her experience, then turned to Albus. 

“Albus, she _can’t_ be allowed to stay here,” Poppy said. “This is the _third_ time she’s heard voices, and she said she’s heard them for weeks.” 

If it had been anyone else, they probably would’ve sighed, but Albus was adept at keeping his face neutral. He had seen this coming, but was hoping for a little more preparation time. 

“St. Mungo’s is _more_ than prepared to handle students like her. Were it anyone else, she’d be gone in a second!” 

“I’m not sure _anyone’s_ prepared to handle students like her,” muttered Minerva. 

“But she _isn’t_ anyone else,” Severus said. “She’s the Headmaster’s new favorite student.” 

“Severus,” Minerva said, glaring at him. “She saved your life.” 

“Doubtful,” muttered Severus. 

“Yes, I’m sure Quirrell would’ve just left you there to starve,” Minerva said sardonically. “I’m _sure_ he wasn’t planning on _killing_ you.” 

“Would you two _please_ stop bickering for five seconds?” Septima snapped, having already lost her patience for the pair of teachers. “The girl had another hallucination! How do we know that this will ever stop? What if she gets worse?” 

“She _did_ resolve a potential free-for-all between fourteen students without violence last month,” Bathsheda reminded them. “Her friends all speak highly of her.” 

Septima turned to Bathsheda, irritated that the Ancient Runes Professor was standing up for the lunatic. 

“How would you know?” she snapped. 

“Let’s not get off topic,” Albus said, knowing full well that Bathsheda was “secretly” tutoring Sally-Anne Perks, going so far as to imprint a shield rune onto the girl’s hand. 

“Bathsheda is correct,” Albus continued. “Ms. Peta-Lorrum does stand up for the other students. If you are truly concerned about their well-being, then I believe keeping her here would be the correct approach.” 

Carolina’s analysis of the professors wasn’t that far off, and Albus had come to the same conclusions years ago. He had hired most of them because they were exceptional in their respective fields, and they were all concerned for their students. Like Rose and her friends, Albus intended to use this to his advantage. 

“But what if she doesn’t _stay_ like that?” asked Septima. Personally, she had little problem with the crimson-haired girl, but if the odd child were to become a threat, then Hermione would be the student in the most danger. 

“Any student could start attacking the others,” Pomona countered. “As I stated last year, Draco Malfoy _does_ attack the other students.” 

“I’ve also received information claiming that Xenophilius Lovegood’s daughter was being harassed by some of my students,” Filius added. “Of course, I made sure that they stopped, but I think Ms. Peta-Lorrum actually stepped in first.” 

“Yes, I believe we’ve all noticed the section of the Ravenclaw table allocated to those two,” Septima said. 

“What happens to the students if she leaves?” Bathsheda asked. “What happens to Perks, and Granger, and Lovegood? Those three girls seem to depend on Peta-Lorrum for protection. Protection that _we_ should be providing in some capacity.” 

“We can’t be everywhere at once!” exclaimed Filius. 

“They’ll need to learn to fend for themselves eventually,” Severus said. “They might as well learn now.” 

“I would like to remind you that we are all supposed to be offering these students a safe environment in which to learn and grow,” Albus said calmly. “We should _not_ be fulfilling our own personal vendettas.” He glanced at Severus as he said this, then turned to Septima. “We should not be focusing on a single student. We should be worrying about _all_ of the students, and the question now stands: Does Rose Peta-Lorrum help or harm this endeavor?” 

Several of his gathered staff began to speak, but he held up his hand to indicate that he wasn’t finished. 

“Poppy, you are correct. Were this any other student, they would already be in St. Mungo’s, but this _isn’t_ any other student. Any other student would’ve run away from danger, but Rose ran _into_ it. She ran to the aid of a person that makes it well known that he doesn’t like her, knowing full well that one of the most powerful dark wizards in history was possibly waiting for her. As some of you have mentioned, she stands up for those in need, often without harming another individual.” 

“For Merlin’s sake, Albus, you said yourself last term that she carries a concealed weapon on her person!” exclaimed Septima. 

“So do we, Septima,” Albus said. “They’re called ‘wands’, and are far more dangerous than _Crimson Thorn_. I realize that you’re concerned for the safety of Ms. Granger, but you must realize that Rose takes great care not to harm her friends, _especially_ Ms. Granger.” 

“What’s _Crimson Thorn_?” asked Poppy. 

“The large double sword that Peta-Lorrum keeps on her person at all times,” Septima fumed. 

“The large– WHAT?!” exclaimed Poppy. 

“There _are_ worse things that can be done with a wand,” Bathsheda said. “The Cruciatus curse, for instance, or a variety of burning or stinging hexes.” 

“I can probably reattach any limb she removes,” Poppy said, “so long as she doesn’t take off someone’s head.” 

“I’ve got her word that she won’t use him on any students,” Albus reassured his staff. 

“‘Him’?” asked Septima. 

“She claims the weapon is male,” replied Albus. 

“What if her hallucinations change from audible to visual?” Severus asked. “What if she _forgets_ that Granger is her friend?” 

The staff pondered this for a long time. Albus was certain that Rose wasn’t going mad, just that she could hear something real that they _couldn’t_ hear. He looked out at his staff as they all tried to work out their next argument before talking. 

He was certain that he couldn’t convince Severus that this was a good idea, but that was because the child annoyed the Potions Master. Septima was just concerned about the welfare of her favorite student, and Poppy was concerned that the Hospital Wing couldn’t handle the fallout from Rose going on a murder spree. 

On the other side of the argument were Bathsheda, Filius, and Pomona. Albus was surprised by Filius, whom he had been expecting to take the other side. Filius did prefer that his students not be harassed, and that Hogwarts remain safe for all, but at the moment, it seemed that he believed that Rose was furthering that cause. Of course, Pomona wouldn’t want to kick out a child who’d done nothing wrong, _especially_ an orphan. Bathsheda seemed to be getting a positive review of Rose from Sally-Anne, so that played in Albus’s favor. 

The only one from whom he’d heard little was Minerva, who was the girl’s Head of House, and probably had the most experience with the girl. 

“Minerva, you’ve been awfully quiet,” Albus said, turning to his Transfiguration Professor. “Anything to add?” 

“Peta-Lorrum is annoying, disrespectful, and hyperactive,” Minerva said. “And all of that is on a _good_ day. However, she _did_ work hard last year to ensure that no one was hurt. She seems stable most of the time, although she does go on about people and places of which I’ve never heard.” 

“Is that why you let her wander the halls unattended?” asked Poppy irritably. 

“I _didn’t_ simply let her walk out, Poppy,” Minerva replied. “She… vanished.” 

“Vanished?” asked Septima. 

“Like she did last year?” asked Bathsheda. “In the chambers?” 

“Exactly like last year,” replied Minerva. “It wasn’t invisibility or a disillusionment charm, it was actual apparition.” 

“How can she apparate on the grounds?!” exclaimed Filius. 

“We don’t know,” muttered Severus. “Minerva said she did it over the summer holiday as well.” 

“So she can apparate,” Septima said. “She’s got a concealed weapon, uses magic that we’ve never heard of before, can apparently read minds, and–” 

“Gave Ms. Granger a magic seashell that allows her to communicate with the girl and know when she’s in trouble,” Minerva said. 

Most of the staff, who had been unaware of this fact, stared at her. 

“Sorry?” asked Septima, a little shocked that she’d never heard about this from Hermione. 

“It’s how Granger and Perks survived the troll last year,” Minerva said, wishing that she’d remembered that sooner. “Granger said that she used it to tell Peta-Lorrum that they were in trouble, and Peta-Lorrum said that she can use it to learn the exact location of Granger and how she’s doing at any time.” 

“Couldn’t they be using that to cheat?” asked Filius. 

“Have you _met_ her?” Septima asked, annoyed that anyone would even _suggest_ that her Arithmancy prodigy would do such a thing as cheat. 

“Septima’s right,” Minerva agreed. “Granger’s too honest for it. I’m not sure the girl knows _how_ to lie. Besides which, Granger keeps it in her left pocket at all times, and it’s not the easiest place to reach during an exam.” 

“That _does_ explain how Peta-Lorrum always knows exactly when our Arithmancy lessons end,” Septima muttered. 

“She also mentioned a fail-safe for harming a student,” Albus replied. 

“She’s still delusional,” muttered Severus. 

“ _Every_ child has got imaginary friends,” Pomona countered. “Find me one who doesn’t, and I’ll find you one who’s ashamed to admit it.” 

“How do we know she _did_ hear something?” Bathsheda asked slowly. “What if she was just playing a game?” 

“Some children do seek more attention after the loss of a parent,” offered Filius. 

“There is _one_ way to be sure,” Severus said. 

“ _Severus,_ ” hissed Minerva. “For the last time, we are _not_ using veritaserum on a _child_!” 

“Aren’t there ways of countering it?” asked Poppy. 

“Yes,” Filius replied. “I don’t know if Ms. Peta-Lorrum can, but there _are_ means of continuing to lie while under veritaserum.” 

“Which is precisely the reason that it’s not used in trials,” Albus said. Try as he had, he was unable to improve veritaserum. All the potion did was _compel_ its drinker to tell the truth. For most people, that compulsion was enough, but to people with mental discipline, it did nothing. 

Albus personally knew two such people, but despite both of them being effectively immune to veritaserum, both of them kept the antidote on hand at all times, just in case. He understood the need to be prepared, but that was just plain paranoid. However, he had come to rely on the paranoia of Severus and his friend Alastor, so he didn’t bother either of them about it. 

“We still know nothing about her,” Severus said. _Apart from whatever Albus isn’t telling us_. 

Severus had come to loath the fact that Albus always kept secrets. It was just a fact of life by now. The Headmaster always kept some information from him, despite being part of the “inner circle”. 

There was something Albus wasn’t telling them; some explanation about why he was _really_ letting that crimson brat stay here. 

Severus would admit to himself that she was more proficient than most Gryffindors at Potions. She had even gotten _Longbottom_ to succeed at one of their assignments. Her pendant had worked, as he had been able to scare even the _Weasley Twins_ straight (Which _was_ a little funny), and the annoying child had eased up her attempts at befriending him. 

In spite of all of this, something still bothered Severus about the girl. Something seemed… _wrong_ about her. Severus got a bad feeling every time he looked at her, like she was at the heart of something dark, something that would threaten to destroy Hogwarts itself if she weren’t stopped. Looking at her felt like looking into the darkest recesses of his own soul, like if he stared long enough, he would eventually go mad. 

Also, she annoyed him, but he was pretty sure it was part of the dark recesses thing and not her attempts at becoming his “best friend”. 

“That is not entirely true, Severus,” Albus said. “No one has been reported missing, thus we can conclude that she is either not from around here, or has no one to miss her. She has claimed both of these theories to be facts. She claims that she can read minds and talk to inanimate objects, and has proven this time and time again.” 

Albus looked out at his collected staff. 

“I’m not asking any of you to trust _her_ ; I’m asking you to trust _me_. As a sign of good faith, I am willing to take full responsibility for anything that Rose Peta-Lorrum does. If she attacks the students or turns on us, sorting the matter will be the last thing I do as Headmaster.” 

Needless to say, his staff were shocked by this. None of them would have expected Albus to go so far as to resign for the girl. 

It succeeded in getting his point across to his professors. 

Severus was still sceptical of her, but if Albus was willing to go that far for the girl, then Septima would settle for keeping an eye on her. 

Poppy was still nervous about the girl, not convinced that she was even _human_ , but she took what she could get. 

Satisfied with the resolution, the other professors filed out of his office until only he and Minerva remained. 

“Why?” she asked. “Why go so far for Peta-Lorrum when no one else trusts her?” 

“Because she explained herself to me,” Albus replied. “She honestly believed what she told me, and I’ve seen and heard enough to believe that she has experienced at least part of what she told me. Not to mention, I believe that she will be a valuable asset in times to come.” 

“You really think You-Know-Who–” 

“Voldemort.” 

“–is going to come back to life?” 

“I’ve been trying to work out how, but I fear he will return,” Albus said. 

_Fortunately for us,_ he thought. _Rose is incapable of bringing people back to life who have been dead for more than a few seconds._

As he thought about it, he realized that a lot of her magic had time limits in multiples of six seconds. Albus wondered if there was a reason for it. 

“When he does,” Albus concluded, “we’ll want Rose by our side. She is unique, Minerva.” 

“That’s _one_ word for it,” Minerva replied. She breathed a sigh of resignation, then added, “Just _please_ don’t make her a prefect.” 

“No, she ignores the rules far too much to be in charge of enforcing them,” Albus replied. “I believe Ms. Perks will make a better prefect, don’t you?” 

Minerva _hated_ when Albus did that. She knew he _could_ read her mind, but liked to think that he _didn’t_ read her mind. Minerva knew Albus better than most, but she couldn’t figure out how he acquired his information otherwise. 

“Albus, if this happens again, there will be no stopping them,” said Minerva. “Not to mention if word gets out about her ‘fits’, you’ll go down with her.” 

“I’m aware, Minerva,” replied Albus. “Rose is adept at defending herself, as I’m sure you’re aware. Short of bringing up the topic of dragons, I’m not sure anything phases her.” 

Up until then, Minerva had been getting tidbits of information about the crimson-haired girl from Peta-Lorrum’s friends. They were the ones that would know her best, but the information never came directly to her, it always went through either Percy Weasley or Alex Nertlyn. What if it _did_ go directly to her? How could she get the information straight from them? 

It was this question that she had been pondering throughout the meeting, and the answer finally struck her: People were always more talkative when they _didn’t_ feel like they were being interrogated. For instance, over a friendly game of chess. 

“I’ve just had an idea,” Minerva said. “I may be able to get more information from her friends. I think she’s a little more honest with them than she is with us.” 

“I’m not sure that’s entirely true, but it couldn’t hurt,” Albus replied thoughtfully. “What did you have in mind?” 

Minerva explained her idea to the Headmaster, who agreed it had potential. Not to mention, they were both a little curious as to how her intended target had gone from nearly failing all of his classes to suddenly passing them all with flying colours. 

“I originally suspected that he was cheating off of Granger, but I watched him like a hawk during the final,” Minerva said. “He didn’t look up once from his paper. In fact, he hardly paused at all during the exam.” 

“I agree that Rose is most likely involved,” Albus said, “but the girl doesn’t strike me as a cheater, nor as someone who would help _others_ cheat.” 

Minerva nodded. 

“Still, with Septima talking to Ms. Granger and Bathsheda talking with Ms. Perks, we’re covering most of our bases.” 

“When has Bathsheda been talking to Perks?” asked Minerva. “ _Why_ has Bathsheda been talking to Perks?” 

“Which reminds me, I need to talk to Bathsheda about that,” Albus said. 

Minerva sighed. Why did Albus insist on talking in riddles? Why couldn’t anyone just make sense? 

_When I am headmistress_ , Minerva thought as she exited the Headmaster’s office, _I’m going to pass a rule that requires that everyone make sense at all times. Peta-Lorrum won’t know what to do with herself if she’s still here. She’ll have no choice but to be silent. It will be wonderful!_

* * *

**Note:** On average, a Human has a Sense Motive Modifier of +2. Carolina has one of +41. Combine this with her Perception Modifier of +41, and she can practically read anyone like an open book. Thus, it’s not that hard for her to understand people of whom she’s only heard by rough description. 


	10. A Midnight Stroll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rose goes for a walk, and Ron and McGonagall have a friendly chess match.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** Harry Potter, Acromantulas, and the _Quibbler_ are all owned by J.K. Rowling.

The next morning, everything continued as normal, or at least, as normal as everything got when one was friends with Rose. 

When the mail came, an owl dropped a parcel in front of Luna, who was once again seated at the Gryffindor table. 

“What’s that?” asked Sally-Anne. 

“This month’s issue of the _Quibbler_ ,” replied Luna, carefully opening the parcel. From the parcel she produced not one, but two copies of the journal. 

“Here you are, Rose,” she said, handing one copy to Rose. 

Rose grinned as she took the booklet from Luna. “Thank you, Luna!” 

“You got a copy of the _Quibbler_?” asked Ron, a hint of contempt in his voice. 

“Of course,” Rose replied, still grinning broadly. “It’s a special edition.” 

“There are special editions of the _Quibbler_?” Ron asked, his contempt for the “news source” now apparent in his voice. 

“Not really, but it’s the first edition Daddy published one of my articles in,” replied Luna. “So Rose asked if she could have one too. Daddy said he’d be happy to send an extra copy for Rose.” 

“Congratulations, Luna!” exclaimed Sally-Anne. 

“That’s pretty impressive,” Hermione added. “Most students never see their work published.” 

“It’s only the Quib– Ah!” exclaimed Ron as he was jabbed in the side by Sally-Anne. “Good job, I guess.” 

“Harry, isn’t that–” Sally-Anne began, then noticed that the black-haired boy was spacing out again. He was doing that more and more, and Sally-Anne had no idea why. She was starting to worry about her friend. 

“Harry, is everything alright?” 

Harry jumped and turned towards the rest of the group. “Yeah… fine!” 

“You don’t look– AH!” Hermione yelped as Rose jabbed her hair clip. 

“Success!” Rose exclaimed. 

“ROSE!” shouted Hermione. “I told you not to do that!” 

Hermione’s birthday was a few weeks ago, and to celebrate, Rose had wished her a happy birthday and tried to touch her hair clip. Hermione, knowing that whatever it was Rose was about to do to it would give her a headache, not to mention the possibility of being caught cheating, had evaded Rose’s touch ever since. 

Thus began Rose’s attempts at getting at Hermione’s hair clip in an effort to improve it. It was only an improvement from +2 to +4, but Hermione refused to listen to Rose’s assurances that it wouldn’t be as bad as the improvement from +2 to +10. Truth be told, Rose wasn’t sure if she had the XP to spare to improve it straight to +10, so she decided on improving it in increments of two every year on Hermione’s birthday. 

“It’s only +2! It’ll be fine!” 

“That’s not the point!” exclaimed Hermione. “I told you not to!” 

“But it clears away wrackspurts,” Luna added. “It will help you in class.” 

“Rose, Luna, Hermione’s already said she doesn’t want to,” Sally-Anne said. 

“Then why doesn’t she just take off the hair clip?” asked Ron through a mouthful of food. After swallowing, he added, “Problem solved.” 

Hermione had considered that possibility, but her head just felt strange when she took it off. Like some sort of fog set in around her mind and she couldn’t think clearly. It was frustrating, and she hated that she was addicted to the hair clip. 

“Professor Vector knows about it, right?” Sally-Anne asked. “If she thought there was a problem, then she would’ve said something.” 

“She doesn’t know about it,” Hermione said. “It’s cheating!” 

“Professor Dumbledore knows about it,” Rose said. “He knows about everything that goes on inside the school.” 

“How can you be so sure?” asked Sally-Anne, still watching Harry. What was distracting him so much? Why wouldn’t he tell her? Sally-Anne thought they were becoming good friends, but now he was shutting her out for no reason. Had she done something to upset him? She thought about asking Ron, Harry’s other closest friend, about it. Maybe he knew something she didn’t. 

Rose didn’t respond. 

“Rose?” asked Sally-Anne. Not her too. Rose spacing out wasn’t uncommon, but not usually in the middle of a conversation. 

“The point of school is to prepare us for the real world, right?” asked Rose after a minute. 

“I guess,” replied Hermione. 

“Well, you’re always going to have that hair clip in the real world,” finished Rose. “So it makes sense to use it in a simulation of what is to come.” 

“That doesn’t sound like you at all,” Sally-Anne said, furling her brow. Sally-Anne wasn’t sure what a “simulation” was, but turning to Hermione, Sally-Anne concluded that it must be an actual word, as her sane friend was nodding her understanding. 

“Tell your brother ‘thanks’,” Hermione replied. 

“He says ‘you’re welcome’,” Rose replied, beaming. 

“What just happened?” Ron asked. 

“Rose asked her brother to help her convince Hermione that it was alright to wear the _hair clip of intelligence_ ,” Luna replied. 

“You can tell because Rose never uses big words,” Hermione said. “Like ‘simulation’, for instance, which is a sort of imitation, like a play. Sk’lar, her brother, uses big words all the time.” 

“But he’s still very good at explaining things,” Luna added. 

Ron looked from Hermione to Luna. How did those two understand Rose so well? Oh well. Ron didn’t care that much, so long as someone could translate Rose for him. 

* * *

Ron walked to the Transfigurations classroom, still convinced that there was a trap waiting for him. Friday during lunch, Percy had sprung an invitation from Professor McGonagall on him. Ron dreaded to think why he was being summoned to the Transfigurations Professor’s office. He _knew_ it was bad, whatever it was. 

“Professor McGonagall?” asked Ron as he reached the Transfigurations Professor’s office. 

“Mr. Weasley,” Professor McGonagall said. “Please, come in.” 

“Am I in trouble?” Ron asked. 

Ron was so transfixed on the intimidating Transfigurations Professor that he didn’t notice the chessboard set up in front of her. 

“Should you be?” asked Professor McGonagall. 

Ron was afraid to answer that question. He couldn’t _think_ of a reason why he would be in trouble, but he wasn’t trying that hard. Was this about the bracelet Rose had given him? It couldn’t be against the rules to use it. Could it? Was _that_ why Hermione was always so uptight about using Rose’s creations? 

“I don’t think so,” Ron replied, noticing the chessboard in front of Professor McGonagall for the first time. “Is… Is _that_ why you wanted to see me? A rematch?” 

“No one has succeeded in besting me in years,” Professor McGonagall replied. “I wanted to see how good you are in a normal match.” 

“Okay,” Ron replied slowly, still not convinced that this wasn’t some sort of trick. Even if he _had_ beaten her statues in chess, why would Professor McGonagall want to see _him_ of all people? 

“I see growing up with your brothers has made it difficult to trust anything at face value,” Professor McGonagall said. “Let me assure you that this is just a friendly match. There are no grades at stake, and I won’t treat you any differently if you win or lose.” 

Ron nervously took a seat in front of Professor McGonagall. Black was towards him, just as it had been in the live chess match. 

Truth be told, he had been nervous during that match. He was worried that he’d get one of his friends hurt. Even if Harry had been the safest piece on the board, he didn’t mind Hermione or Sally-Anne, and he’d hate to get them hurt. 

Ron was confident in little that he did, a result of the little positive reinforcement he received from his family, but he had complete confidence in his ability to play chess. He wasn’t as confident as Rose or Hermione, or even Sally-Anne, but he had been certain that night that he’d be able to keep his friends safe. 

Ron had been scared when he had seen that the only winning move was to sacrifice _himself_ , but better him than someone useful like Rose, even though in the end it _had_ been Rose that sacrificed herself. Despite not having to get lobbed across the board, Ron wasn’t sure he was happy with that outcome. He didn’t want to be some kid in need of saving, he wanted to be the hero. 

They began to play the game. Ron was still cautious, not certain whether he was about to get punished from out of nowhere. 

“If I may ask, where did you learn to play?” asked Professor McGonagall. 

“Charlie taught me,” replied Ron. “I used to play with him and Dad, until Charlie left and Dad started working more. Now I usually just play Harry or Hermione.” 

“Not Perks or Peta-Lorrum?” 

Ron shook his head. “Sally-Anne isn’t very good, and Rose always gets bored and wanders off.” 

“So I’ve noticed,” replied Professor McGonagall. “So you were entirely responsible for your group making it through that match last term?” 

“Hermione helped a little, and Rose moved the pieces for us.” 

“You were all rather vague about that,” Professor McGonagall said. “How exactly did Peta-Lorrum move the pieces?” 

Ron shrugged. “Don’t know. She used a spell that put the piece in a bubble, then moved the bubble.” 

“Like _coryn angyan_?” 

“I guess. I don’t remember the name she used, but it looked similar, except the bubble didn’t just float up like _coryn angyan_.” 

Minerva blinked. How had a _second-year_ heard of _coryn angyan_? The floating orb charm was part of the fourth-year charms curriculum. 

Minerva filed that information away in her head for later. If she started to ask the young Weasley too many personal questions, he might become suspicious. Keeping the topic on another person improved her chances of success. 

“She also made a giant fist to take out the queen after she switched places with me,” added Ron. 

Minerva narrowed her eyes. “How do you mean ‘switched places’?” 

“I mean I was in one place one second, then the next I was where Rose was and she was where I was.” He moved another of his pieces on the board. “Check.” 

Minerva idly moved one of her pieces to block the boy’s attack. “How’d she do that?” 

“Wish I knew, it was a cool spell,” Ron replied. “I’ve been through all of my family’s old textbooks, but I couldn’t find anything that sounded like it. The closest I could find was _trosi füg_ , but that’s based on the Summoning Charm. I just appeared, sort of like a portkey.” 

Septima had told Minerva that the Arithmancy Professor had heard from Granger that Ronald Weasley liked to read. Minerva wasn’t sure about this, since before Christmas, he was modeling his work ethic after that of Fred and George Weasley. No, Minerva was certain that she was missing something vital, some piece of information that explained why the young Weasley had suddenly changed. 

That was when Minerva saw it. The missing piece of information was right in front of her. 

As her opponent reached across the board to take her last castle, she saw the bracelet on his wrist. It was red and gold, and, other than being finely made, not all that important. Minerva might have seen it before but simply dismissed it. 

What made it important now was another piece of information Minerva had received from Septima: _Granger_ had received a bracelet from Peta-Lorrum that allowed her to instantly read any book she touched. 

Minerva had known the Weasley family for a long time, having worked alongside them in the Great Wizarding War over a decade ago. She knew that Arthur Weasley held the belief that men should act a certain way, and that those beliefs had been picked up by most of his boys. Therefore, there was no reason why one of them would be wearing a bracelet unless it served some other purpose than just being stylish. 

Peta-Lorrum had made at least two of her friends bracelets. Had she made them for all of them? Were Potter and Perks just better at keeping their heads down? She didn’t know how well Perks would do with it, but Potter certainly would’ve learned to keep his head down living with those… _people_ for so long. 

To date, Peta-Lorrum had made her own wand; at least two bracelets that allowed the wearer to instantly read a book; hats that allowed the Twins to disguise themselves however they wanted, including as other people; a pendant that allowed a person to mark and track anyone or anything (Which Minerva had used to mark her wand, Albus, and Severus, just for good measure); and a pendant that made Severus more intimidating (because _that_ was necessary). To top it all off, those were merely the items about which Minerva _knew_. What _else_ could the girl make? Was _that_ why Albus insisted on keeping her in Hogwarts? Did he just want to see the extent of her abilities? 

After she finished her match with the red-head, which she won, the two of them collected the pieces and returned them to the board. 

“I can see why no one’s beaten you in a while,” Ron said. “You’re brilliant!” 

“You did remarkably, Mr. Weasley,” Professor McGonagall replied. “I look forward to our next match.” 

As the young Weasley exited her office, Minerva began to write down everything she had seen Peta-Lorrum make, including her wand and robes. She wasn’t sure what purpose it would serve, but she was certain that it would help her in the long run. 

* * *

The next two weeks passed by, and Hermione was beginning to get nervous. Saturday was Hallowe’en, and she was worried that something was going to go wrong. Hermione hoped it would be a pleasant surprise, not another mountain troll attack. 

“I’m bored,” Rose said Friday night. 

“There’s plenty to do,” Hermione said without taking her eyes off the book she was reading to kill time until morning. “You could study.” 

“Boring.” 

“Why don’t you craft something?” 

“I don’t know what to make,” Rose said, flipping through her notebook. “Well, I’m thinking of making a set of _meta casting gauntlets_ , but that’s very resource intensive.” 

“What are those?” Hermione asked. 

“Standard pair of _casting gloves_ , but at sunrise, the wearer selects two metamagic feats, one for each glove. Twice per day per glove, the user can apply the chosen metamagic feat to any spell without change in casting time or effective spell level. It’s powerful magic, so I had to make sure to limit them somehow, otherwise the magic would destroy the material, so they also take a month to attune to the user.” 

“What’s metamagic?” 

“It’s like modifying spells,” Rose said. “Me, I’m a fan of Persist Spell. That makes any spell last for 24 hours, so long as it’s a personal or fixed range spell. I’ve got loads of persistent spells on me all the time.” 

“I think you’ve mentioned that,” Hermione said. “What other metamagic is there?” 

“Chain Spell, Reach Spell, Sculpt Spell, Twin Spell, Maximize Spell…” 

“I think I understand what each of those do,” Hermione said. “Chain Spell chains a spell to another target, Reach Spell… I’m not sure, actually. Does it make it go farther?” 

“No, that’s what Enlarge Spell does,” Rose said. “Reach Spell turns a touch range spell into a ranged touch spell with a range of 30 feet.” 

“Okay, then Sculpt Spell changes the shape of a spell?” 

“Yeah, it’s one of Sk’lar’s favorites,” Rose said. “Especially when combined with _Mastery of Shaping_ , which is one of the tricks he learned as an Archmage.” 

“What’s the difference?” 

“Sculpt Spell only allows the caster to pick from a select few shapes,” Rose replied. “Cubes are one of them, and I think another is a cone? I don’t know. _Mastery of Shaping_ allows the caster to select holes in the spell’s area, leaving safe zones for spells like _freezing fog_. Combine the two, and you can move the holes to a different part of the spell’s area.” 

“That sounds useful,” Hermione replied, hardly paying any attention to Rose. 

“Yup.” 

Rose realized she wasn’t going to get much conversation out of Hermione. 

“Well, I’m bored again. I think I’ll go for a walk!” 

“Where?” Hermione asked. “In the castle?” 

“Sure!” 

“Alright,” Hermione said, returning to her book. “Have fun.” 

Hermione didn’t want Rose to get caught and cost them points, but she had long stopped believing that Rose _would_ get caught. Even the prefects suspected that the pale girl was out past curfew, but they couldn’t prove it. Not to mention, most of them _didn’t_ want to prove it. 

“I plan on it!” 

* * *

Rose’s stroll through the castle lasted until well after midnight. She simply wandered the castle, finding a few new secret passageways that hadn’t been there last year. Around two o’clock, she began to hear a voice. 

“ _Must do as the Master says. Always as the Master says._ ” 

“That’s new,” she muttered. “That’s not the stones.” 

Rose picked up her pace as the voice got farther away from her. She wanted to find out its source, hoping that it would help her learn more about what had happened a few weeks ago. 

After a few turns, she could no longer hear the voice and admitted defeat. Her luck improved when she took in her surroundings and noticed something else odd. 

A sizable swarm of spiders was scurrying out a window. They moved uniformly, creating a small black mass of eight-legged creatures. 

“That’s also new,” Rose said. “Where are you going?” 

“ _To Aragog_ ,” answered the entire swarm of spiders. 

“What’s an ‘Aragog’?” she asked. 

“ _Aragog will protect us._ ” 

“Protect you from what?” 

“ _The Predator. It threatens all of us. We must run away._ ” 

Rose watched as the spiders scurried out of the castle, then made up her mind. Without further thinking or planning, Rose jumped out of the castle wall, _blinking_ through it into the cold night air. She landed softly on her feet thanks to her cloak, then awaited the spiders. Once they reached the ground, she followed them straight into the Forbidden Forest. 

As she wandered deeper into the woods, Rose began to notice that there were creatures positioning themselves behind her. She kept attention on her _blindsight_ , making sure that nothing got the drop on her. Rose also noticed that something was moving in the trees _above_ her. 

After a minute of walking, she realized what they were: spiders. Spiders of varying size surrounded her, not to mention their webs that could serve as a bed for the girl. Then Rose began to wonder how comfortable that would be. She decided that she’d have to try it sometime. 

<Monstrous spiders,> she pathed to Reflectesalon. <Nothing we haven’t seen before, right, Ref?>

<We don’t know that they’re the same as in our world, Rose.>

<Good point. Keep an eye out and make sure we don’t die!>

<I always do.>

As Rose reached the end of the spiders’ journey, she found a gargantuan monstrous spider. It sat in a web about the size of Rose’s room, its eight eyes fixated on Rose as she approached it. 

“ _Who are you that enters my lair?_ ” hissed the spider. 

“Salutations!” exclaimed Rose. “My name’s Rose Peta-Lorrum.” She curtsied. “You must be Aragog.” 

“ _I am. Why have you come here?_ ” 

“I followed the little spiders here,” Rose said. “What’s ‘The Predator’?” 

“ _A creature that has laid dormant within Hogwarts for 50 years_ ,” hissed Aragog. “ _My children run to me for safety_.” 

Rose looked around at the surrounding spiders. 

“You, Aragog, have been busy. There is a point at which you need to stop procreating. It’s okay to just say ‘no’.” 

“ _You_ mock _me?!_ ” 

“I mock everyone,” Rose replied. “Well, almost everyone, but mostly just people who bore me. What’s the Predator?” 

“ _Why should I tell you?_ ” 

“Because if you do, I can kill it.” 

“ _Nothing can kill the Predator._ ” 

“You know, someone once claimed that I couldn’t kill him,” Rose said, noticing that the spiders were beginning to inch towards her. “He said this just before I cut off his head.” 

“ _You are a student._ ” 

“Yeah, I am,” Rose replied, grinning. She looked around and saw that she was now completely surrounded by spiders. “And yet you’ve got a small army here to make me feel uncomfortable.” 

“ _Oh no_ ,” replied Aragog with what sounded like glee. “ _My children are hungry, and you humans taste much better than any of the creatures in the forest._ ” 

“Oh, okay,” Rose replied. She narrowed her eyes. “Not unicorns, though, right?” 

“ _Only the most vile creatures would kill a unicorn,_ ” replied Aragog. 

“Oh good,” Rose said. “You seem nice, so I’d hate to have to kill you.” 

“ _You think_ you _can kill_ –” 

“Of course,” Rose said, unphased by the carnivorous spiders closing in on her. She grinned. “But I’ll give you a fair warning: I can kill your children too if they try to eat me.” 

“ _You are a mere child!_ ” scoffed Aragog. 

“I’m not a mere child,” Rose replied, smirking. She crouched down, readying herself for combat. 

“I’m Rose Peta-Lorrum.” 

_Crimson Thorn_ appeared in her hand. 

“I’m the Crimson Artificer of Arcrel.” 

With a series of clicks, and a SHINK!, _Crimson Thorn_ unfolded. 

“And I’m the best there is.” 

The spiders began to swarm around her, moving in for what they believed to be an easy kill. Spider after spider moved around her, but Rose began to move. 

She hopped over the first one, swinging _Crimson Thorn_ in an arc with her. She cut into the first one, slicing it clean in half, then cleaved into the one behind it as the others began to realize that this might not have been such a good life choice. 

Rose planted her foot in the ground as she landed and swung her weapon around, killing two more spiders with ease. Her _blindsight_ was going crazy, alerting her of every single spider’s movement in a 60-foot radius centered on her. 

“ _My children!_ ” hissed Aragog with what Rose assumed was fury. “ _You will die for this!_ ” 

“You first,” Rose shot back. 

Pulling her hood over her head (because it made her look cool), she cast _reverse gravity_. Every spider flew 10 feet into the air, and Rose took to the skies after them, _Crimson Thorn_ in tow. 

Rose reached the spiders, cutting into three of them as they attempted to regain their bearings. More spiders came after her, but they too found that the entire area around her was under the effects of _reverse gravity_. Rose pulled her arm back, and hurled _Crimson Thorn_ at another spider, cutting clean through the creature. 

In any other circumstances, Rose would’ve just used _Dark Meteor_ or her new ring, which she had dubbed the _Ring of Life’s Flame_ , but she had been in this situation before. Rose knew that if she used fire in the Forest, then the Forbidden Forest would be no more. No Forbidden Forest meant no unicorns in the Forbidden Forest, and that thought made Rose sad. Not to mention, if Carolina found out that she had burned down a forest, then Rose would never hear the end of it, and Sk’lar’s girlfriend could be terrifying when she was angry. 

Rose spun around as she flew towards another cluster of spiders. _Crimson Thorn_ flew back to Rose’s hand, and she carved open another group of spiders. 

By now, black goo was covering Rose, as were various spider legs. The sight of some _child_ covered in the limbs of his children enraged Aragog. Unfortunately, he himself was much too old to join in the combat, but he had fit children who should be able to handle this _abomination_ with ease. 

Five huge spiders began to descend upon the Artificer. Rose estimated that they were a good 12 feet in length, with each of their limbs a good 14 feet. She grinned. 

The funny thing was that if Rose had been any normal student, Aragog would’ve been right. Rose wouldn’t have stood a chance, considering that huge monstrous spiders were CR 5, and the students were probably all between levels one and five. Unfortunately for Aragog, Rose _wasn’t_ a normal student. 

Rose flew up and cut through another one, somehow managing not to kill it. Rose swung again, cutting the spider in two. 

<Hmm. Ref, I think we’re going to need backup.>

<I’m not sure that Sir Uxmiirik is awake at this hour,> Reflectesalon replied. 

<He’s got a _ring of sustenance_ ,> replied Rose. <He’s awake.>

As Rose killed another one with the last of her attacks, she pathed Bowie. 

<Sir Scaley!> she exclaimed. <I require your assistance! Eom.>

<Do you need me to sing you a lullaby to help you fall asleep?> asked Bowie. <Eom.>

<Nah, I need you to sing a glorious song of victory to help me put spiders to sleep.>

<Sounds good,> Bowie replied. 

Bowie was a Bard, which gave him the ability to empower anyone who could perceive him, and Rose could perceive him just fine through their telepathic network. 

Rose laughed as she felt the familiar feeling of _inspire courage_. It was as if she could take on the world, and _song of hope_ assured her that she’d win. 

She swung _Crimson Thorn_ around, striking one of the spiders beside her. An explosion of sonic energy erupted from the point of impact, and the spider was ripped apart, covering Rose with even more gore than she had already accumulated. 

Rose spun around and took down one more of the huge monstrous spiders, leaving her with just one. It attempted to flee, but Rose hurled _Crimson Thorn_ at it, using the second of three daily uses of that ability. The spider exploded as the two-bladed sword returned to Rose. 

“So Aragog,” Rose said to the gargantuan monstrous spider, “still think you can kill me?” 

Aragog assessed the child floating in the air. She had reversed the gravity in front of him, was somehow able to speak their language, expertly wielded a two-bladed sword that appeared out of nowhere, and could fly. Not to mention that her weapon had started exploding with some sort of sound-based energy. 

The girl was like nothing Aragog had seen before. Was it possible that she could kill the Predator that had nearly killed him 50 years ago? The Predator, the creature from whom Hagrid had protected him? 

“ _Let my children live, and I will tell you what I know about the Predator_.” 

“Sounds like a plan,” Rose replied, folding up _Crimson Thorn_ and returning him to her glove. 

<Thanks, Scales. I think they’re surrendering, but stay on standby just in case.>

<Can do. Remember, inspiration lasts for a minute.>

<Thanks.>

Rose floated back down to the ground, where her _reverse gravity_ spell had since worn off. 

“ _I was brought to the castle 50 years ago by Rubeus Hagrid_ ,” began Aragog. “ _There was a boy there that accused Hagrid of setting me on the students. Riddle, his name was. Hagrid never gave his first name. Hagrid protected me that day. The day he was expelled._ ” 

As Aragog spoke, Rose recorded everything Aragog said. 

“ _A student had just died. A girl, Hagrid said. It was the Predator, but Riddle claimed it was me. He claimed that Hagrid had ordered me to kill the girl._ ” 

“That certainly doesn’t sound like Mr. Hagrid,” agreed Rose. 

“ _The Predator had already tried to kill me_ ,” Aragog continued. “ _I could hear it moving in the walls. It attacked me, but Hagrid’s presence frightened it away._ ” 

“What _is_ the Predator?” asked Rose. “I’m all for character development, which is rather interesting considering that I didn’t think Mr. Hagrid was important to the story, but if this thing’s moving through the school again, then my friends are in danger.” 

“ _We dare not speak its name_ ,” hissed Aragog. 

“Really?” asked Rose, now annoyed. “All of that, and you won’t tell me its name? Or even its _species_?! What is with the people in this world? The Humans won’t say ‘Voldemort’, you won’t name the Predator. What’s next?!” 

“ _Have_ you _never felt fear?_ ” 

Rose paused for a moment. She had. All of her friends called a certain dragon “The Abomination” because the mere mention of its name used to bring Rose nightmares. Remembering its name _still_ brought back nightmares, and she didn’t sleep anymore. 

“Alright, that’s fair,” Rose replied, calming down. “I guess I can understand that. Is there anything else you know?” 

“ _If you see it, you will die_.” 

“Noted,” Rose said, writing it down in her notebook. She turned to leave, then something occurred to her. 

_Carolina would be devastated if she saw this._

It shouldn’t have mattered to Rose. She was perfectly happy butchering creatures if it served her purpose. But then she realized something else, the reason that it was bothering her: Her _parents_ would be devastated. _That_ struck a nerve. Even after her parents had died, she had tried to make them proud as best she could. Rose had discovered that following the example set by Sk’lar, Uncle Oz, and Carolina was the best way to accomplish that. 

She had murdered Aragog’s children, and now she felt bad about it. Unlike anyone else on this plane, Rose could fix it. 

Rose took out _Serendipity_ and _power surged_ her. 

“You can’t tell anyone that I can do this,” Rose said to Aragog. “If you do, I’ll kill _you_ next time.” 

Rose made absolutely certain that no Humans were around, then she turned to the bodies of Aragog’s children. She had killed 16 of them in total before Aragog had wised up. 

She pointed _Serendipity_ at the first dead spider. 

“ _I wish it were alive,_ ” whispered Rose in Dwarven. 

The spider’s legs regrew, and the creature climbed to its feet. 

“ _How…_ ” Aragog began, but even the ancient Acromantula didn’t have the words for it. That wasn’t _possible_! No one could bring back the dead! 

“As I said, I’m no mere child,” Rose replied. 

A few minutes, and 135 XP later, Rose had restored all the spiders she had killed. After she finished, Rose turned to Aragog and curtsied. 

“Thank you, Aragog,” Rose said. “I’ll see you around.” 

“ _Leave here, Rose Peta-Lorrum_.” 

Rose skipped away through the forest, the rising sun shining light on her path. 

* * *

The portrait swung open, and Hermione heard the voice of Rose. 

“The castle seems so much bigger when you run out of _dim doors_.” 

“It’s called ‘walking’, Rose,” Hermione replied, still reading her book. “How was your…” 

Hermione’s voice trailed off when she saw her friend. Rose was _covered_ in black goo and bits of… _Were those spider legs?!_

“Fun,” Rose replied, seemingly ignorant to the mess covering her. 

“Please tell me you didn’t walk through the halls looking like _that_ ,” Hermione groaned. 

Rose looked down at herself. 

“Is that why everyone keeps looking at me funny?” 

Hermione stared at Rose in disbelief, then shook her head and sighed. 

“Like I said, I already used my _dim door_ for the day.” 

“Couldn’t you have just used _prestidigitation_ , which you’ve claimed to get as much as you want?” 

Rose paused for a moment, then replied, “Yeah.” 

“You forgot you could do that, didn’t you?” 

“Maybe.” 

Hermione sighed. “Rose, stop going on walks.” 

“Then something exciting needs to hurry up and happen already!” Rose exclaimed. “I’m bored!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Note:** I’m sure you can guess what’s going to happen next chapter.
> 
>  
> 
> _Coryn angyan_ is based on the Welsh for “floating orb”, and _trosi füg_ is based on the Welsh for “false transposition”.
> 
>  
> 
> The ruling for _Mastery of Shaping_ and Sculpt Spell is a house ruling I made. It made sense to me that the two would synergize, and that was what I devised.


	11. Something Exciting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Luna meets some house-elves, Rose and Dumbledore have a nice little chat, and things start to get real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** No matter how exciting events become, Harry Potter is still owned by J.K. Rowling.

That morning, Luna woke up early to go exploring with Rose. Luna was excited about it. There was a lot to see in Hogwarts, and Rose said she knew about all the secrets that the castle held. 

Before breakfast, the two girls entered the Great Hall, and Rose led the way to the back of the Hall. She tapped the statue of Helga Hufflepuff with _Serendipity_ , and the statue sidled off to the side. 

“You know the house-elves?” asked Luna as she and Rose crawled up the small passageway to the house-elf dorms. 

“Yup!” Rose replied cheerfully. “My friend Dripty was crucial in helping us resolve the Philosopher’s Stone incident last year.” 

“Fascinating,” Luna replied. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a house-elf before. What are they like?” 

“Short, with big ears and greenish gray skin,” replied Rose. “They’re slaves, but they seem happy with it.” 

“That’s interesting,” Luna replied. “That doesn’t sound like wrackspurts, but it’s hard to imagine that a slave would be happy.” 

“They’re treated well here,” Rose said. “I don’t know about that house-elf I met over the summer, though. I think he was being beaten by his masters.” 

“What house-elf?” asked Luna. 

“The one that was stopping Harry’s mail,” Rose replied as they reached the top of the staircase. “I’d actually forgotten about him, but he tried to hurt Int when he was bringing a message to Harry.” 

“That wasn’t nice,” Luna said. “Why try to hurt a homunculus?” 

“Don’t know yet, although Atrien might.” 

The girls entered the house-elf dorms to find them mostly empty, save for about half a dozen house-elves. After introducing Luna to them, Rose spoke to Atrien, who was conveniently there. 

“Atrien, how long have you been here?” asked Rose. 

“At Hogwarts?” asked the old elf. 

“Yeah.” 

“About 119 years,” Atrien replied. “Atrien remembers Professor Dumbledore when he was being a student. He was showing us house-elves kindness even back then.” 

Rose smiled. “Yeah, he does seem pretty great, but I was wondering about the girl who died about 50 years ago.” 

If this bothered Atrien, she didn’t show it on her face. “Why is you asking about that?” 

“Because I think whatever killed her has woken up, or reanimated, or whatever. I’m trying to get any information about it that I can, since Ref couldn’t get anything from Aragog, since he can’t understand spiders.” 

“Atrien is sorry, but Atrien is not knowing what killed her. Atrien was thinking that it was being Mr. Hagrid, but Professor Dumbledore would not be letting Mr. Hagrid back into Hogwarts if that was being the case.” 

“Alright, thanks,” said Rose. “I have got another question.” 

“Atrien is being happy to help the students,” replied Atrien. 

“Have you ever heard of a house-elf called ‘Dobby’?” 

“Atrien is sorry that she cannot be helping Miss Rose, but Atrien has never heard of such an elf.” 

“It’s alright,” replied Rose. “I only ask because he was trying to stop Harry’s mail from going through.” 

Atrien frowned. “Why would anyone be stopping Harry Potter’s mail?” 

“Not sure,” Rose said, noting that Atrien, like the other House-elves, used Harry’s full name when referring to him. Even they regarded him as a hero, and according to Sally-Anne, it was bothering Harry. “I haven’t seen him since the summer, so I don’t think he’s still trying to bother Harry.” 

“If the house-elves is hearing anything, Dripty will be letting Miss Rose know,” Atrien said. “And Atrien will be personally informing Professor Dumbledore.” 

“Thanks!” Rose exclaimed happily. “If I may ask, why is Harry so important to the house-elves?” 

“He was stopping He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named,” replied Atrien. “The Dark Lord was having no regard for house-elves, and was even torturing some of them for fun.” 

“Oh,” Rose said, some of her cheer dissipating. “I’m sorry.” Rose’s cheer immediately returned. “Don’t you worry, Atrien! I’ve stopped monsters before, and Voldy seems like a total pushover compared to the Phantom!” 

“Who is being the Phantom?” asked Atrien. 

“The most dangerous person I’ve ever crossed,” Rose replied. “It wasn’t that the Phantom was necessarily powerful, but _patient_. I still don’t know his real name, although my brother should. The Phantom worked for over a thousand years to secure his victory, and he was clever enough never to allow his name to be known. My friends had to work hard to learn about him, and he does all of his work from the shadows.” 

“He is indeed sounding dangerous,” Atrien said, impressed by the girl’s vast imagination. Atrien had already been informed by Professor Dumbledore that it was best to listen to whatever Miss Rose said, even if Atrien didn’t believe it. Professor Dumbledore had said that the information could be important, even if Atrien didn’t yet understand how. 

“It’s alright,” Rose said, still grinning. “The Exalted and I took care of him.” 

Atrien nodded. “Atrien is being sorry, Miss Rose, but Atrien must be overseeing the kitchens. The house-elves is preparing dinner for tonight.” 

“Oh, right, the feast,” Rose said. “I missed that last year.” 

“Well, hopefully Miss Rose can be making it this year,” Atrien said. “Atrien will be seeing you later.” 

“Bye, Atrien!” exclaimed Rose as the house-elf vanished from sight with a loud crack. 

* * *

Harry walked through the castle, trying to clear his head. He knew his friends were starting to notice his odd behavior over the past few weeks, or at least Sally-Anne was. He couldn’t tell them that he was hearing voices, otherwise they’d think he was mad. Harry was already sick of the attention he was receiving from Colin and Ginny and didn’t need nor want any more attention. Why couldn’t they understand that he was a normal person? Why couldn’t people go back to paying more attention to Rose like before? 

Harry felt a little bad about it, but he enjoyed Rose’s psychotic episodes during class, since it meant that the topic of conversation switched from him to Rose for a few days. Unfortunately, it would inevitably make its way back to him after that, and then it was back to dealing with obsessive fans. Word had spread about what had happened the previous year, and everyone seemed to think that Harry had been in charge, leading his friends into danger and glory like some valiant hero. Every time he tried to explain that it had been Rose that was leading them, people would just congratulate him on his modesty. 

Why didn’t anyone listen to him? Did everyone just live in their own little world? What was wrong with people? 

“Good morning, Harry!” 

Harry was jolted awake by a familiar voice. 

“Oh, hey, Nick.” 

Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost, was floating along in the hallway. Harry wasn’t sure if it was a good or bad thing that he had grown accustomed to Nick’s “condition”. It wasn’t that he was a ghost that had initially bothered Harry, but instead that his head could almost be completely detached from his body. 

“Why so glum?” asked the ghost. 

“It’s nothing,” Harry replied quickly, fearing that if anyone knew about the voices, then word would immediately spread to everyone in the school. 

“Well, you shouldn’t be so miserable!” Nick exclaimed. “Do you know what day it is?” 

“No,” Harry lied, hoping the answer wasn’t “The day you defeated Voldemort”, or something else ridiculous. What most people didn’t seem to understand was that it was _also_ the day his parents had died, but apparently they weren’t important enough to be remembered. 

“It’s my 500th Deathday, of course!” Nick declared. “All the ghosts are holding a celebration later.” 

“Oh,” Harry replied, not caring all that much. 

“You should come,” suggested Nick. “It might take your mind off of whatever’s bothering you.” 

“I don’t know,” Harry said, certain that it _wouldn’t_ take his mind off things. What if he started hearing voices in public? What if he couldn’t keep ignoring them? 

“I insist!” Nicholas insisted. “It will be great fun, even though my request to join the Headless Hunt has once again been denied! You see…” 

As Sir Nicholas ranted about his foiled attempts at joining the Headless Hunt, Harry let his mind wander back to the voices he’d heard. It wasn’t all the time, and it seemed random. Why did this have to happen to _him_?! It wasn’t fair! All Harry wanted was some quiet! Was having a normal year too much to ask for the great Harry Potter?! Why him?! 

* * *

“I know what’s moving in the castle.” 

Albus looked up from his desk to see Rose standing in front of him. The girl had quite the bad habit of popping up at random. 

“You really should knock first, Rose.” 

“The acromantulas call it ‘The Predator’,” Rose said, ignoring the Headmaster. “It killed a girl 50 years ago.” 

“That’s an interesting theory, but that’s not possible. That girl was killed by the Monster of Slytherin.” 

“Why can’t it be the Monster of Slytherin?” Rose asked, a frown crossing her face. 

“It presumably lives in the Chamber of Secrets, which must be opened in order for the creature to escape,” Albus explained patiently. 

“And it can’t be open because…?” 

“When the Chamber was opened 50 years ago, it was made well known that it had. There is no other evidence that the Chamber of Secrets has been re-opened, not to mention that no one has been able to _find_ the Chamber of Secrets.” 

“Okay. Two more questions.” 

“Go ahead.” 

“First: What was the girl’s name?” 

“Myrtle Warren. She was a Muggle-born Ravenclaw student.” 

Rose scribbled the information in her notebook before continuing. “Second: Who’s ‘Riddle’?” 

“I’m sorry?” Albus asked, despite knowing full well to whom the girl was referring. From whom was she getting her information? Wait, didn’t she say something about the acromantulas? 

“Aragog said Riddle got Mr. Hagrid expelled.” 

Aha! It _was_ the acromantulas! That left Albus with a few questions, but the two most prominent were “Why was she talking with them?” and “How many were still alive?”. 

“More than that, Rose,” Albus replied kindly. “Poor Hagrid was sent to Azkaban.” 

“That rings a bell, so we’re gonna circle back to that one,” Rose said. “I had Aragog dodging my questions all night, I don’t need you doing it too! Who is ‘Riddle’?” 

“Tom Riddle.” 

Rose frowned, then pulled out her notebook. Flipping back a few pages, she skimmed over her notes until she found the information she was seeking. 

“That’s him, isn’t it?” she asked. “That’s Voldemort.” 

Albus nodded. 

“Coming back to my other question,” Rose said, scribbling more illegible words in her notebook, “what’s Azkaban?” 

“Why were you talking with Aragog?” Albus countered. 

“I got bored and found some spiders leaving the castle,” Rose replied. 

Albus noted that she left out the part about it being past curfew, although assumed she didn’t realize that she had already let slip that she was out at night. 

“They were all running to Aragog for safety from the Predator.” 

“Interesting. I don’t recall Aragog being the talkative type.” 

Rose shook her head, her crimson hair flying around with it. “He’s not. I had to kill some spiders first. He started talking to get me to stop killing them.” 

“You killed his children to get him to talk?” asked Professor Dumbledore cautiously. 

“No, I killed them because they were trying to eat me,” Rose replied. “Also, I was having fun.” 

“Murder is never fun.” 

“I felt bad about it afterwards,” she said dismissively. “What’s Azkaban?” 

Albus wasn’t sure he liked the girl’s dismissive attitude towards murder, but she had assured him that he’d leave the students alone, so he decided to leave it for the time being. 

“Azkaban is a high-security prison,” explained Professor Dumbledore. “It is on an isolated island and was once a fortress to the evil wizard Ekrizdis. The island has always been inhabited by Dementors, creatures that now serve as guardians of the island.” 

“That sounds like Thedo Minor,” replied Rose. 

“What’s Thedo Minor?” asked Professor Dumbledore. 

Rose repeated the story of Thedo Minor she’d told to Sally-Anne and Hermione the previous year. 

“From her grief the Somber Snow was created,” Rose concluded. “I know from experience that anyone caught in the Somber Snow, which covers the entire island, will feel colder as they feel happier.” 

“Experience?” 

“Sk’lar was taken there a few years back,” Rose replied. 

Albus and Rose stared at one another for a minute before Albus decided that Rose wasn’t going to elaborate. 

“Didn’t you say your brother was Headmaster of one of the schools?” 

“Yup.” 

Albus and Rose stared at one another for several minutes. Albus took the time to consider the girl in front of him. She spoke fondly of her friends, but stopped talking when certain topics arose in conversation. One such topic seemed to be her brother’s past. What had he done to get himself locked up? It couldn’t have been so bad, given that he was now in charge of what Rose claimed to be one of the best schools in her world. 

If Thedo Minor was a high-security prison on par with Azkaban, then her brother must’ve done something horrible. He could understand her not wanting to talk about it. Her brother was her hero, and people often refused to believe their heroes could do anything wrong. 

“Very well,” Albus said. “Returning to the original topic of our conversation, I believe that it is highly unlikely that the Chamber of Secrets has been opened. However, something has frightened the acromantulas, so it is possible that there is something else now active within Hogwarts.” 

“Maybe the Chamber of Secrets is open,” Rose said. “Maybe whoever opened it is being subtle about it this time.” 

“That’s possible, of course,” Professor Dumbledore replied. “Even if that is the case, I won’t be able to convince my staff of that.” 

“I’m not asking you to. I also didn’t ask you to put your reputation on the line for me.” 

Albus didn’t so much as hesitate, but instead replied, “From whom did Reflectesalon learn that?” 

“Professor McGonagall,” replied Rose, glad that she finally didn’t have to explain her source of information. “You should really consider training your staff in occlumency.” 

“I have.” 

“Considered it, or trained them?” asked Rose. “If you’ve trained them, then you should consider retraining them, because they aren’t very good at it.” 

“I’m aware,” Albus replied. He had considered instituting mandatory occlumency training for the staff, especially now that there was a girl picking through their minds, but it seemed that they never had the time for it. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Rose, but rather that he was worried that someone _else_ could be picking information from _her_ head. 

“Why stick your neck out like that?” asked Rose. “I’m not that special, and I’m certainly not worth it.” 

This surprised Albus. The crimson-haired girl walked around like she owned the school, rarely hesitating, if ever. She displayed a unique set of skills, and Albus wasn’t sure if the girl _had_ limits. Given all of this, why didn’t she consider herself special? Were these abilities normal in her world? 

“I don’t know the situation in your world, Rose, but in our world, your abilities are unique. In fact, I believe them to be vital to surviving the events to come.” 

“What does _that_ mean?” 

Albus wasn’t sure if he should tell Rose about what he believed. He kept his inner circle informed, those he knew he could trust, but could he really trust this girl? Severus could be right about her; She could simply be feeding them lies in order to earn their trust, but something about that just didn’t sit right with Albus. It wasn’t just the way the girl acted, it was something more. 

Albus had held the title of headmaster for decades, and he’d seen all manner of different students. He’d seen students like Draco Malfoy, who desperately try to win the approval of their parents, no matter what the personal cost. He’d seen students like Ronald Weasley, people that want recognition and approval from their peers. Even students like Harry Potter, who simply wanted to be left alone and be normal had been through his halls. 

There was something about Rose though, almost like a chink in her armor. Behind all the bravado, Albus was certain that he could see a scared little girl, cut off from her friends and family. Albus didn’t know how she had found herself in this world, but he had no difficulty believing that she wasn’t from his world. She used a unique set of magic, with which Albus saw little problem, save one. 

“Last year, you informed me of a spell you called _revivify_ ,” Albus said, choosing to ignore the girl’s question for the moment. “It allows someone to restore life to a person who died within six seconds of the casting. Is there any other way to restore life to a person once they’ve died?” 

“No,” Rose said without hesitation. She felt like she had just lied to Uncle Oz, but she reminded herself that no matter how much Professor Dumbledore _acted_ like Uncle Oz, he _wasn’t_ Uncle Oz. If Professor Dumbledore knew the actual limit to Rose’s ability to bring back the dead, then he’d keep her under tight surveillance, and that would ruin Rose’s fun. 

Albus nodded. “Thank you, Rose.” 

“You’re welcome!” exclaimed Rose. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m gonna go.” 

“I will see you at the feast tonight,” Professor Dumbledore replied. 

Rose walked to the door, then stopped. 

“That’s not all I got from Professor McGonagall,” she said. “Your people are probing my people… my friends for information.” 

If it bothered Professor Dumbledore, he didn’t show it, but then, he never showed anything on that face. Rose knew he had feelings, but she also knew it was pointless to show those feelings. Shadow had taught her that. 

“Hermione’s Arithmancy lessons, Sally-Anne’s secret rune training, and Ronald’s friendly chess matches. You’re using them to collect information on me.” 

Professor Dumbledore remained silent, his hands folded in front of him. 

“Am I wrong?” 

He shook his head. 

“If you wanted to know something, you could’ve just asked,” Rose said. “Leave them out of this.” 

“Right now, I know all I need to know about you, Rose,” Professor Dumbledore said. “You are correct that these sessions are being used to collect information on you, but you are wrong about the person doing the collection. I’m not getting information on you, Rose, my staff is. You’ve given them every reason not to trust you, and you told me you understood this last time we spoke.” 

“They hold the title of professor, and my brother always said I should respect that title,” Rose said. “I will, but I don’t trust them. Carolina says your staff are good people, and I’ll believe that, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to tell them everything about myself.” 

“I’m not asking you to tell them anything, but you frighten them. They want to be prepared in the event that something goes wrong.” 

Rose glared at Professor Dumbledore. 

“Fine,” she said. “Just leave them alone.” 

“I will involve them as little as possible.” 

Rose nodded to Professor Dumbledore, then vanished from his office. 

* * *

“So just to recap,” Ron said as he gazed out at the room full of ghosts, “Harry’s here because Nick invited him, and _we’re_ here– missing the Hallowe’en Feast– because Harry convinced us that it was a good idea.” 

“That about sums it up,” Sally-Anne replied. 

“What _are_ those?” Harry asked Hermione, indicating the objects laid out across most of the tables. 

“Food, I think,” Hermione replied. 

“Harry!” exclaimed Nearly Headless Nick. “So glad that you could come!” 

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Harry replied hesitantly. 

“It looks like most of the ghosts are here,” Sally-Anne said, trying to make conversation. 

“Of course,” Nick replied. “A ghost’s Deathday is an important event.” 

“Still seems weird, if you ask me,” Ron said. “I mean, why celebrate the day you died?” 

“Ronald!” exclaimed Sally-Anne. “Don’t be rude!” 

“It’s not _just_ the day I died,” Nick said. If he was offended by Ron’s comment, it didn’t show on his face. “It’s the day I became a ghost! Five hundred years to date, I was nearly beheaded.” 

“What happened?” asked Hermione. 

She’d never had the opportunity to learn about the Gryffindor ghost and why his head was nearly gone from his shoulders. She thought it might be interesting to find out about it. 

“I tried to use magic to fix Lady Grieve’s teeth,” replied the ghost of the hour. “It didn’t quite work, and I accidentally gave her tusks.” 

“Whoops,” muttered Ron. 

“They took my wand from me and executed me the following morning.” 

“Why isn’t your head completely detached then?” Hermione asked. 

“The executioner’s axe was blunt, you see. It took 45 attempts to take off my head, and even then…” His voice trailed off, and he tilted his head to one side, nearly detaching it from his head. 

“Half an inch of skin and some sinew holds it on,” Nick said. 

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” Ron said, looking at Hermione. “Aren’t girls supposed to find stuff like that disgusting?” 

“My parents are dentists,” Hermione said. “I’ve seen worse than that.” 

“Never mind me,” Sir Nicholas said, looking at the small group of Gryffindors attending his party. “What’s wrong with your friend?” 

Hermione glanced over at Rose, who was examining some of the “food” at the snack table. 

“How much time have you got?” Ron asked, receiving an elbow from Hermione. “What?” 

“She’s just a bit different, Ronald,” snapped Hermione. “You’re different from her!” 

“Oi!” Ron shot back. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Would you two stop?!” Sally-Anne shouted at the bickering couple. “Ron, you’re being insensitive. Hermione, you’re being _overly_ sensitive.” 

Both of them folded their arms and glared at the other. 

Hermione was starting to get annoyed by how Ron treated Rose. Rose was… _strange_ , but she had still saved their lives time and again. Not to mention, Hermione was worried about her. While Hermione was certain that her friend could handle herself, Hermione was worried that Rose was having more episodes. What if it _wasn’t_ her ability to hear the stones, but an actual psychotic episode, or worse, some sort of reaction to being in another world? What if they just got worse? Hogwarts was _terrifying_ without Rose there. 

Ron, on the other hand, hated that Rose kept getting all the attention. If not Rose, then people were fawning over Harry. Ron was there last year when they all went into the Philosopher’s Stone chambers, but no one even _mentioned_ him. Even his own _mother_ was more worried about Harry’s safety than his when she found out about everything that they’d been through the previous year. At least _Professor McGonagall_ thought he had promise with chess. 

On a side note, Ron never thought he’d open a sentence with “At least _Professor McGonagall_ …”, and it was a little strange. 

“If you mean how pale Rose’s skin is,” Sally-Anne said to Nicholas. “She’s got this… sort of… _condition_.” 

“And you’d rather I not talk about it,” Nicholas said. “I understand. Have any of you by chance spotted Sir Patrick Delaney-Podmore?” 

“Who?” asked Harry. 

“He’s in charge of the Headless Hunt,” the Gryffindor Ghost replied. Grumbling he added, “And he denied my application to join _again_.” 

“Couple questions,” Hermione said, still glaring at Ron. “What’s the Headless Hunt, and why do you want to join?” 

“It’s a group of ghosts whose heads have ‘parted company with their bodies’,” replied Nick contemptibly. “And according to _Sir Properly Decapitated-Podmore_ , half an inch of skin and sinew isn’t good enough for the Hunt.” 

“I’m sorry,” Sally-Anne said, pretty sure that the ghost was upset. 

“I’m sure I’ll get over it,” Sir Nicholas replied. “Just so long as he doesn’t show up ton–” 

Nearly Headless Nick was cut off by shouts and whoops from the entrance to the Dungeons. The students saw a group of ghosts, not one of whom had a head on their shoulders, riding through the entrance on spectral horses. 

“Is that them?” asked Sally-Anne. 

“Yes,” snarled Nick. “Sir Delaney-Podmore! I don’t remember inviting you tonight!” 

“I’m sure our invitations were just lost!” declared one of the ghosts, presumably Sir Delaney-Podmore. “We thought we’d stop by for a rousing game of Head Hockey!” 

Rose watched the spectacle as she approached the rest of her friends. 

“Some wanna catch me up?” she asked. 

“Nearly Headless Nick doesn’t like them,” replied Sally-Anne. “Something about them not letting him join in their reindeer games.” 

“Huh?” asked Ron and Rose. 

“Sorry, Muggle joke,” replied Sally-Anne as Hermione and Harry snickered. 

Rose glanced over and noticed that a ghost girl in Ravenclaw robes was crying in the corner. The girl wore glasses, and had her ghostly hair in pigtails. 

“Who’s that?” 

Sally-Anne turned to see to whom Rose was referring. “That’s Moaning Myrtle. She haunts the first-floor girls’ bathroom.” 

Rose tilted her head. “Why is she crying?” 

“That’s what she does,” replied Ron. 

Rose glanced over at Ron. “No one cries for no reason. There must be something bothering her.” 

_Please don’t say it_ , thought Hermione. 

“I’m gonna go find out what it is!” declared Rose. 

_You said it_ , thought Hermione, groaning. 

Hermione had long since noticed that Rose had a habit of sticking her nose where it didn’t always belong. While that was the reason Rose had been there when Malfoy was causing problems for Hermione their first year, it also meant Rose often found herself in the middle of a problem, and more often than not, dragged Hermione with her. 

Rose skipped happily over to Myrtle. “Salutations, Myrtle!” 

That name kept ringing a bell, but Rose couldn’t think why. What was significant about a Ravenclaw called Myrtle? 

“W-Who are you?” sobbed Myrtle. 

“I’m Rose,” Rose replied, curtsying. “It’s nice to meet you!” 

“Are you here to make fun of me?” 

“Of course not,” Rose replied. “I got teased all the time at my old school, so I know how you feel.” 

“Do you?!” wailed Myrtle. “Every day for the past 50 years, I get mocked and teased! Just like when I was alive!” 

Rose’s smile faded. “I’m sorry, Myrtle. I didn’t mean to upset you.” 

“Everything upsets Pimply!” 

Rose turned to see Peeves, the Poltergeist, entering the room through a wall. 

“Ugly Myrtle!” jeered Peeves. “Fat Myrtle!” 

Myrtle began wailing again, then flew off through a wall. 

“Wait!” Rose exclaimed, then turned to glare at Peeves, who flew after Myrtle, continuing his barrage of hurtful insults. 

Rose quickly scribbled something in her notebook. As she did, she caught a glimpse of a note she had made earlier that day. 

_Monster of Slytherin victim - Myrtle Warren; Muggle-born Ravenclaw_

Everything clicked in Rose’s head, and she bolted out the door, hoping to find the two ghosts. It wasn’t until Rose was down the hallway that she remembered that _blink_ allowed her to phase through walls. 

“Alright, lesson learned,” Rose muttered. “I know I already noted it, but I feel the need to say it: Saint Nature’s whole ‘I can grab ghosts’ thing would really come in handy right about now.” 

Rose looked around as her friends caught up with her. 

“Rose,” Hermione panted, “please… don’t do that… ever again. Ever.” 

“I don’t suppose you saw where they went, did you?” asked Rose. 

“No,” Sally-Anne said. “Ron, Harry?” 

“No,” Ron replied. 

Harry remained silent. 

“Harry, what’s–” Sally-Anne began, but then saw what was holding his attention. 

The most mundane part of their surroundings was the water on the ground. Standing near it was a petrified Mrs. Norris, Filch’s cat. She was frozen in place, although there was no obvious reason why. 

Moaning Myrtle and Peeves were nowhere to be found, but Rose could hear crying coming from somewhere close to them. 

The most important part of the scene was what was written on the wall. It looked to the children like it was written in blood, and Rose, having seen plenty of blood, mentally confirmed it to be blood. 

_THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED - ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE_

As her friends gasped, Rose just sighed. 

“Now I know how Shadow feels all the time,” she said. “Not only do people keep asking me the same questions, but they keep doubting that I’m right.” She turned to Sally-Anne. “Hey, Sally-Anne, you’re good with people. How do you think Professor Dumbledore will react to me telling him ‘I told you so’?” 

“Rose,” Sally-Anne said. “Now’s not the time.” 

Rose sighed again. “It’s never the time,” she muttered. 

Other students, leaving the feast, began to gather around them, all of them gasping as they saw the words. 

“‘Enemies of the Heir, beware’,” read Malfoy, who had shoved his way to the front of the crowd. “ _You’ll be next, mudbloods!_ ” 

Rose rolled her eyes. 

<Can I kill him?> she asked Reflectesalon. 

<That depends,> Reflectesalon replied, <am I still under orders to inform your brother if you kill a student?>

Rose muttered something offensive in Dwarven, then replied, <Fine. He can live… for now.>

“My cat!” exclaimed Filch as he arrived. He rushed up to Mrs. Norris, holding his cat gingerly in his arms. “What’ve you–” 

Argus stopped dead when he saw one of the girls standing in front of him. She wore a red cloak, black dress, and goofy looking goggles on her head. There was no doubt about it: It was _her_. 

“ _You!_ ” he hissed at the girl. 

“Salutations, Mr. Filch,” she said cheerfully. 

Before Argus could begin to understand exactly why the girl he was certain was a trick of the Weasley Twins was here, he was interrupted by a voice with more authority than his. 

“What is going on here?” came the voice of Professor McGonagall. She gasped as she read the writing on the wall. 

“It was them!” exclaimed Filch, pointing at the second-years. “They was ’ere when I got ’ere!” 

“That doesn’t mean it was them, Argus,” Professor McGonagall said. “Everyone, back to your rooms!” she shouted, then turned to the five Gryffindors. “I think you five had better come with me.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rose uses a lot of abbreviations and shorthand in her notebook, however since the entire thing is in Celestial, they can't be translated. Therefore, none of the citations of her notebook will be abbreviated. Starting now.


	12. Hearing Voices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rose confounds some teachers and makes others (Lockhart) wet themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** I hear voices, and they're reminding me that J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter. They're helpful like that.

The five Gryffindors were led by Professor McGonagall up to the seventh floor. It quickly became apparent to Hermione that they were going to Professor Dumbledore’s office. This did not sit well with her, since no matter how much time passed, going to the Headmaster’s office still unnerved the girl. 

Sure, she’d faced a mountain troll and lived to tell about it, but that was a few adrenaline-filled minutes of panic and fear. A meeting with Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall was filled with several minutes of tension and horror, which, to Hermione, made it far worse than the troll. Not to mention, if her _parents_ became involved, then it could potentially turn into an entire month, summer, or, God (or Merlin, or whatever) forbid, an entire _lifetime_ of misery. 

As always, there were four chairs waiting for them next to the gargoyle that guarded the entrance to the Headmaster’s office. Four of them took a seat, except for Sally-Anne, who was instructed to follow Professor McGonagall. 

One by one, they were called by Professor McGonagall to enter the Headmaster’s Office. First Sally-Anne, then Hermione, then Ron, and finally Harry. 

<Rose, talking to the Headmaster in the tone you did earlier might have been a mistake,> her brother told her. <Especially now.>

<It makes you look suspicious,> Shadow added. 

<It does, doesn’t it?> Rose replied sardonically. 

<Rose, I know you’re annoyed that they won’t listen to you,> Sk’lar pathed. 

<Welcome to my world,> Shadow muttered. 

<I know, right?> replied Rose. 

< _Please_ take this seriously, > Sk’lar urged her. <If you don’t, you could be taken away from there, which means you lose.>

Rose paused. She hadn’t considered that. 

<You’re saying if I get kicked out, I may never get back home?>

<It’s possible, so _please_ try to help the situation as best you can. >

<Okay, Sk’lar,> Rose replied, noting the urgency in her brother’s voice. <I won’t let you down!>

<You never do,> Sk’lar replied, his smile apparent in his “voice”. 

<How long did it take to get from the first floor to Dumbledore’s office?> asked Shadow. 

<At least 30 rounds,> replied Rose. <Why?>

<Because Dumbledore will probably want more than just McGonagall in there with him,> replied Shadow. <At least the only other member of the staff who can stop Ref.>

Rose grinned, a gesture that was ignored by her friends. 

< _Professor_ Dumbledore, > Sk’lar corrected. <Regardless of who he is, he still worked hard to get that title, and from what Rose has told us, he’s earned it. The least we can do is show him respect by using it.>

<I guess it does mean more to you than it does to me,> Shadow replied. 

Harry came down the spiral stairs while Sk’lar and Shadow continued their conversation, then turned to Rose. “You’re up.” 

Rose hopped out of her chair and skipped up the stairs, oblivious to the amount of trouble in which she now found herself. 

* * *

When Rose reached the top of the stairs, she found exactly the people she was expecting to find: Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape. Professor Dumbledore sat at his desk, Professor Snape was preparing to take a flanking position, and thus off to the side, and Professor McGonagall was at Professor Dumbledore’s right hand. 

“Have a seat, Rose,” Professor Dumbledore said. 

Rose took a seat in the only other chair in the room as Reflectesalon filled her in on what was going on. 

“Do you understand why you’re here?” asked Professor Dumbledore. 

“You wouldn’t believe me this morning about the Monster of Slytherin being on the move, since the Chamber of Secrets wasn’t open. Now there is evidence that the Chamber has been opened, and I was found at the scene. Therefore, the only logical conclusion is that I faked the Chamber of Secrets opening, or actually opened it myself, thus providing support for my theory. You lot don’t know my capabilities, so you find it plausible that I paralyzed Mrs. Norris and wrote the message on the wall. Or, the simple solution, I just _found_ the Chamber of Secrets. The only reason you interrogated my friends is to find out where I was just before we found the writing on the wall.” 

_We told them to keep quiet_ , Minerva thought. She had been certain that Granger and Perks wouldn’t say anything, and that the two of them would keep Weasley quiet. What happened? Did Peta-Lorrum wear them down with her constant nagging? 

“They did,” Rose said. “They were marvelous about not talking, and you picked a good order to ensure that. Sally-Anne was first because she’s good with people and would keep the others from talking once she knew the situation. Same thing with Hermione. Since she’s naturally curious, she’d want to know what was happening, but once she knew, she’s too frightened of authority figures to say anything. That made her the next choice. Ronald’s a bit pushy, but Sally-Anne can keep him contained easily, and deflect any questions he’s got, which she did. Harry hardly speaks nowadays, but the other three would eventually get him to talk by badgering him. You also counted on my complete apathy towards the situation, or that I’d be working on a cover story.” 

Severus had to admit, he was a little impressed by how well the brat had thought this through. With the exception of Granger, most Gryffindors thought _after_ acting, if at all. He had already lumped Peta-Lorrum in with the rest in this regard, but there was evidently more to her than he had seen. 

“I see you took the time to talk with Shadow instead,” Professor Dumbledore said. 

“And Sk’lar,” Rose added, smiling. “He’s the one that uses big words like ‘logical confusion’ and ‘apa… whatever’.” 

_Never mind, just like the rest._

“Returning to some semblance of sanity,” Severus said. “Did you open the Chamber of Secrets?” 

“Of course not,” Rose replied. “Why would I want to do that?” 

“As you said, it would validate you hearing voices,” Professor McGonagall said. 

“It would probably relieve Harry, too,” Rose said. 

“What’s Potter got to do with this?” asked Professor Snape. 

“He’s been hearing voices too,” Rose replied. “It’s scaring him and worrying Sally-Anne, who can’t figure out why he hasn’t been talking lately.” 

“Harry is hearing voices?” Albus asked, now more intrigued by the well-being of one of his favorite students. Not to mention, as James and Lily Potter had been good friends of his, Albus felt partly responsible for their son. 

“Not sure which one,” Rose replied, as she began counting off on her fingers. “I’ve been hearing the acromantulas going crazy, a voice that keeps muttering something about snacks, and the one that keeps whispering my name. That last one is incredibly distracting.” 

“‘Snacks’?” asked Professor McGonagall. 

“That’s all I ever catch,” Rose replied. “Something about wanting to eat something, but not being allowed to. It moves too much for me to keep up, so that’s all I’ve got.” 

“Why should we take your word for it?” asked Severus, hoping to stop the girl from distracting them even more than she already had. It was a clever tactic, trying to throw them off their game by deflecting their questions while still partially answering them. It was easy to catch on when someone answered a question with another question, but she wasn’t. Instead, she was drowning them in information. 

“You shouldn’t,” replied Rose. “Of course I’m not going to admit to opening the Chamber of Secrets, knowing that it would send me to your doom prison that I looked up after lunch.” She frowned. “You lot should be ashamed of yourselves, using joy-sucking demons as prison guards. No wonder people go mad in there!” 

“So you’re saying we _shouldn’t_ trust you?” asked Professor McGonagall. 

“No,” Rose replied. “But you shouldn’t ask people if they broke the rules. I swear, I’ve mentioned this before.” 

“So why should we not assume that you opened the Chamber of Secrets?” asked Professor Dumbledore. 

“Why would I?” 

“We already said,” replied Minerva, growing impatient with the second-year. “It would validate your claim–” 

“To whom?” asked the crimson-haired girl. 

“To us,” Albus replied. 

“And the flaw with that is…?” asked Rose. 

“She doesn’t care what we think,” Severus said. “This is the girl who actively _tries_ to make us believe that she’s gone mad.” Noticing the grin on the annoying girl’s face, he immediately snapped, “We’re not friends, Peta-Lorrum!” 

“Whatever you say, Professor Snape,” exclaimed Rose. “But that’s my point. I don’t actually _care_ if you lot believe me or not, it’s just more convenient to pick your brains rather than search through hundreds of books. You won’t expel me so long as I don’t make a scene when hearing the castle talk to me, since anything else can be easily explained by ‘She’s just plain weird’.” 

“But why bother protecting you?” Albus asked, intrigued by how thoroughly her brother thought everything through. That was, of course, assuming that these were still her brother’s words. 

“I’ve made Professor Snape’s Potions lectures more enjoyable for him by making him terrifying, and I work to keep the students safe and teach them how to stand up for themselves, lessons that I’ve learned from my big brother and sister. If I leave, you’ve got Malfoy eagerly waiting to terrorize several students, and the Ravenclaws will resume harassing Luna. Sure, every school’s got bullies,” she frowned and glared at the ceiling, “but I’m making sure that no one suffers horribly because of it.” 

Each of the three professors looked at the crimson-haired girl. Albus looked at her with intrigue, Minerva with irritation, and Severus with suspicion. Even after a year, none of them were quite sure what to make of this girl. 

“So you’re saying we should keep you here because you prevent bullying?” asked Minerva. 

“Just like my brother!” the second-year exclaimed. “He’s the youngest headmaster of Episti Academy.” She paused for a moment, then added, “In it’s long and noble history.” 

That was interesting. Rose never bothered to add that, but it sounded to Albus as if her brother insisted she did. Was she still holding her brother’s attention? Why? Did he plan to help her weasel out of this, or was he helping her to not implicate herself in a crime she didn’t commit? From what he knew of the crimson-haired girl’s older brother, he leaned towards honesty, which would lead Albus to believe that he wouldn’t help her get away with breaking the rules so severely. Of course, everything he knew about him came from her, so there was no telling what was right and what was wrong. 

“So you’ve mentioned,” Albus said. “However, whether you stay in this school isn’t the topic of conversation.” 

“It’s not, but it’s related,” countered Rose. “You think I opened the Chamber of Secrets so that I’d have an excuse to hear voices, but I’m saying that I don’t need one. I don’t care whether you lot believe me because that doesn’t help me stay in this school. What does keep me here is everyone believing that keeping me here is a good idea, and that’s what I was attempting to prove just now.” 

“Alright,” Minerva said. “Let’s say you didn’t open the Chamber of Secrets. Who did?” 

“Don’t know,” Rose replied. “I don’t know much about it, other than what I read this afternoon in _Hogwarts: A History_.” 

“And what is that?” asked Severus. 

“It was allegedly installed by Salazar Slytherin as a secret training ground to combat Muggles. Legend says he kept a monster there that would awaken one day to cleanse Hogwarts of Muggle-born students. It was opened fifty years ago, and during that time, a girl called Myrtle Warren was murdered by the beast. There were no marks left on her, she just died.” She glared at Albus. “Also, _someone_ failed to mention that she’s currently haunting one of the girls’ bathrooms on the first floor!” 

“I wanted you to work that out for yourself,” Albus replied. 

“Even _more_ like Uncle Oz,” Rose grumbled. 

“So you don’t know who wrote that message on the wall?” asked Minerva. 

“No idea,” replied Rose. “And too many people have been by there for me to ask the stones who it was.” She paused for a moment, then added, “Although, I’m sure that you’d say I was trying to frame someone if I did ask them.” 

_That is_ exactly _what I’d think_ , thought Severus. 

“I believe that will be all, Ms. Peta-Lorrum,” Albus said kindly. “Thank you for your time and patience.” 

“Patience?” Rose muttered. “I mean, yes, of course!” 

“And do thank your friends for me,” Professor Dumbledore said. “All of them.” 

Rose grinned. “Will do. Night, Professors!” 

As the crimson-haired girl descended the stairs, Minerva turned to Albus. “Now what?” 

“Now we find out who _really_ opened the Chamber of Secrets.” 

“Do you know where it is?” asked Severus. 

“No, although I’ve got a feeling that Ms. Peta-Lorrum might be able to tell us.” 

“So we ask her, post a guard outside the entrance, and finish this before anyone gets hurt,” Minerva said. 

“Assuming the Heir of Slytherin has to return to the Chamber,” Severus said. “Which they may not. The monster may not either. Knowing its location won’t do any good in stopping either of them, and posting a guard would waste resources.” 

“We can’t just sit around and wait for another attack!” exclaimed Minerva. “We’ve got to take action!” 

“If we don’t, I’m sure the Ministry will,” Severus added. “Minerva’s right for once. The moment Lucius catches wind of this, he’ll start using it to turn the Ministry against you, Albus.” 

“I don’t doubt that,” Albus said. “Until we know more, we take every precaution we can. Tell Pomona to start preparing a potion out of mandrake root to tend to those who are attacked. Spread the word that no student is to go anywhere alone, including the prefects. Their rounds are to be preformed in pairs.” 

Both professors nodded. 

“And both of you keep an eye out for any suspicious activity,” Albus added. “If we are vigilant, we may have a chance of stopping this before it gets out of hand.” 

* * *

“What happened?” asked Ron as Rose reached the bottom of the stairs. “Did you get expelled?” 

“Nope. Everything’s fine.” 

“Everything’s _not_ fine,” Hermione said. “The Chamber of Secrets is opened. Don’t you understand what that means?” 

“That Salazar Slytherin had horrible sense in names?” asked Rose. 

“It means we’re in danger,” Hermione said. “Well, Sally-Anne and I, anyway. Slytherin wanted to purge the school of Muggle-born students, one way or another.” 

“So the Monster of Slytherin will go after Muggle-borns,” Rose said. “I know, I read _Hogwarts: A History_ this afternoon.” 

“Good luck getting a copy now,” Ron said. “People are gonna be climbing over one another to get at that book.” 

“And I left my copy at home,” Hermione complained. “I couldn’t fit it with all of Lockhart’s books.” 

Sally-Anne took note that Hermione practically spat Lockhart’s name, in contrast to the dreamy way in which she said his name at the start of the year, just a few months ago. 

_Really making a poor impression,_ she thought, turning her attention back to Harry and why her friend wasn’t speaking. 

“I definitely know what I’m getting you for Snowy Time,” Rose said. 

“A bigger trunk?” asked Ron. 

“Sort of.” 

“Not only will it be bigger, I’m sure it’ll come to life on command and breath fire or something,” Hermione sighed. 

Rose grinned. “It will now!” 

“You _really_ shouldn’t give her ideas like that,” Ron said. 

“I know, I wasn’t thinking,” Hermione replied. “I’m _exhausted_!” 

“I think we could all use some rest,” Sally-Anne said, her attention still on Harry. He still wasn’t speaking a word. What was bothering him so much that he wouldn’t say anything? Sally-Anne would have given anything to know what was on his mind. 

“Oh no,” Hermione groaned. “Something just occurred to me.” 

“You’ve fallen in with the wrong crowd for a nice, quiet life?” asked Ron, looking at Rose as he said it. 

“That occurred to me a long time ago,” Hermione replied, laughing. “But we were _seen_ being escorted away by Professor McGonagall.” 

“Which means most of Gryffindor is going to be waiting for us to get back,” Sally-Anne finished. “Oh no. We’re never going to get to bed!” 

Ron hadn’t been there for last Hallowe’en, as he had been in the Hospital Wing, but he did have some idea of what awaited them. If only there were some way to bypass the students, just like a knight could jump over a line of pawns. Thinking of chess reminded him of the live chess match from last year, which reminded him of something else. 

“Rose,” Ron said. “You use all that strange apparition magic. Can you get us past our house?” 

Rose grinned. She pulled a charm off her bracelet, which turned into a quiver. From the quiver she produced a gnarled, wooden staff. 

“Everyone, grab a hold of the staff!” Rose directed. 

As soon as the last hand was on the staff, the five of them vanished and reappeared in the boys’ room. As they predicted, it was completely empty. 

“Ronald, that was brilliant thinking!” exclaimed Hermione. 

“It was nothing,” he replied sheepishly. “I just… it was nothing.” 

He nearly started gloating by running through his entire train of thought, but realized that it would probably sound a little silly, so decided against it. 

“ _I_ certainly wasn’t going to think of it,” Rose said. “I was honestly considering trying out _bad touch tentacles_ when we got through the portal.” 

“‘ _Bad touch tentacles_ ’?” asked Sally-Anne. 

“ _Black tentacles_ ,” explained Rose. “Conjures a bunch of tentacles on the ground, which grapple anything within range except the caster. Really useful–” 

“Harry?!” Sally-Anne gasped as she saw her friend clutching his head. “Are you alright?!” 

“I’m fine,” he moaned. “Just a headache.” 

Harry didn’t want to tell them what was really bothering him. He didn’t want to tell them that he had started hearing that voice again while they were outside Professor Dumbledore’s office in the chairs that just appeared in the hallway, or that his scar had started burning shortly afterward. 

“Don’t worry,” Rose said. “ _Dim door_ does that sometimes. Nothing about which we need worry!” 

Harry collapsed in his bed as the girls vanished, grateful that the day was finally over. He tried hard not to think about what would come tomorrow: The badgering fans, the curious housemates, Malfoy’s incessant ridicule. On top of all of that, the voices seemed to be getting worse, and now his scar was hurting again. Would this ever end? What was _next_? 

* * *

“Good morning, Rose,” Luna said as her crimson-haired friend sat down at the Ravenclaw table the next morning. 

“Good morning, Luna,” Rose replied. 

“Why are people saying you’re the Heir of Slytherin?” asked Luna. 

“Dunno,” replied Rose. “I mean really, if I wanted to kill people, I’d do it. I don’t need a monster for it. I’ve got _Crimson Thorn_! Sure, he can’t move on his own, but…” 

Rose’s voice trailed off, then her face began to twist into a smile that most of the surrounding Ravenclaws would call “evil” (Except they’re Ravenclaws, so they’d use words like “sinister” or “malicious”). It wasn’t just the smile that unnerved the surrounding students, but the laugh that accompanied it. It began softly, like a small chuckle, but developed into a full-fledged cackle. Many students began to feel uncomfortable with the mere two meters that separated them and the girl, and promptly shifted away from her. 

Hermione, on the other hand, hardly noticed the laughter, despite it being audible throughout the Great Hall. She nearly laughed herself, however, when she saw Ron shiver. 

“Hit by inspiration?” asked Luna, apparently unphased by her friend’s maniacal outburst. 

“I just had the best idea _ever_ ,” Rose exclaimed as she scribbled furiously in her notebook. 

“Are you going to animate _Crimson Thorn_?” asked Luna. 

“Yup!” exclaimed Rose. “I just need to consult with Uncle Oz about the best way to go about doing it! Then he’ll be able to move around and attack on his own! So _kethé_!” 

Luna smiled, but didn’t say anything. 

“Are you alright?” asked Rose as Reflectesalon informed her that something was off with her friend. “You don’t seem like yourself today.” 

“I’m alright,” replied Luna. “Just have a lot on my mind, I guess.” 

“If you’re done eating, I know somewhere we can talk!” 

“Alright.” 

Within 50 rounds (or five minutes), the girls were sitting in the Room of Requirement nearby a softly roaring fire. The couches were red and black, with the same rose pillows that had appeared when Rose had first taken Hermione to the Room of Requirement. 

“So what’s on your mind?” asked Rose. 

“A few weeks ago, I found this,” Luna said, producing a small, black book from her bag. 

What Rose found significant wasn’t necessarily the book, but that it was identical to the one possessed by Ginny Weasley. 

“I began writing in it, and a few days ago, it began writing back,” Luna said. 

“Where’d you find it?” asked Rose. 

“It was with the rest of my belongings in my trunk one morning,” Luna replied. “I thought someone must have put it there.” 

Rose considered using her gloves to determine the previous owner of the book, but it would take at least 10 minutes to get adequate information from the book. How did it get to Luna? Fred and George took it, but Rose had assumed they’d returned it. Had they left an identical copy with Ginny? Why? 

“What did it write back?” asked Rose. 

“Well…” 

“It’s alright,” Rose said, noticing Luna’s hesitancy to answer. “You can tell me.” 

“It’s my mum. It sounds just like her.” 

_That_ didn’t bode well. Why was the book intelligent, and why was it impersonating Luna’s mum? 

“She even calls me her Little Moon, just like she used to,” Luna said, a smile creeping over her face. 

“Did you tell it that before it told you?” 

“No.” 

“Well, it’s…” Rose was about to list off every flaw in Luna’s conclusion, but stopped when she saw her new friend’s face. Luna was happy and hopeful, as if a piece of her had been restored. Rose wasn’t sure what was really going on, but she didn’t have the heart to tell Luna. “Sounds like your mum to me!” 

Whatever it was that was really happening, Rose no longer cared. She thought back to when she had first met Sk’lar, and how he’d given her hope that she’d see her parents again. Whatever this was, it was giving Luna hope, and Rose knew that hope was more important right now than facts. 

Rose sat down beside Luna and put her arm around her. Rose wanted to ask about Luna’s mum, but figured that it could wait until another time. At that moment, Rose just sat and comforted her friend, because it was exactly what Alice would have done. 

* * *

The next day, everything progressed as normal. Rose didn’t really care about Herbology, but getting to walk with Hermione to Arithmancy was always fun. Most likely due to the Chamber of Secrets, students were no longer allowed to walk the halls alone. Rose was positive that Professor Dumbledore had looked directly at her when he said this, a feeling that was verified by Alex informing Rose quietly that the crimson-haired Artificer was no longer going to get away with being out of Gryffindor Tower after curfew. 

The part of the day to which Rose was looking forward was Defence Against the Dark Arts. Last year, it had been the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor that had been behind the bad things that had happened to her friends. This year, Rose was determined to make sure that he didn’t even _dream_ of harming them. 

Rose just had to wait until the end of class, which was incredibly dull with Lockhart teaching them _nothing_. Even if she couldn’t actually perform the magic, it was still fun learning about the various creatures in this world, and gauging the amount of XP each one was worth. 

Still, if he wasn’t going to teach them, Rose figured she’d get some reading done instead. And it was the third-year textbook, so it wasn’t like she was just reading some random book. 

“Ms. Peta-Lorrum, I’ve told you before, no reading during class,” Lockhart said, flashing his perfect teeth as he reached for Rose’s book. 

“If you touch my book,” Rose said without looking up, “I’m not going to put out your hair next time you set it on fire. I’m just gonna watch it burn.” 

Gilderoy wasn’t sure if it was the way she said “burn”, but she sounded a little to enthusiastic about it, so he decided that he’d let her keep the book. 

After class, Gilderoy was approached by the crimson-haired girl. 

“Lockhart, I’m sure someone as experienced as you is unconcerned about the Chamber of Secrets opening.” 

“Why of course not,” he said. “It’s all in a day’s work for someone like me! It’s nothing like the time I–” 

“Don’t care,” she said. “Your predecessor tried to kill my friends and I. Now, I’ve got no issue with people trying to kill _me_. It wasn’t the first time someone has tried to kill me, nor will it be the last. I’ve got a knack for sticking my nose firmly in other peoples’ business.” 

“I’m sorry?” Gilderoy asked the annoying second-year, still flashing his perfect, award-winning smile. 

“If I find out that you’re up to something that’s putting my friends in harm’s way, I won’t hesitate to put an end to it and _you_.” 

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about, Ms. Peta-Lorrum!” Gilderoy exclaimed, making sure to get the girl’s name correct. That was important when talking with someone who thought they were better than you. Butter them up until it was time to tear them down. 

“Mhm,” the girl replied. Without taking her eyes off him, she extended her left arm and flexed her fingers. 

From out of her outstretched hand shot a blast of fire. Gilderoy jumped back as he felt the heat of the flames and saw it scorch his wall. 

The professor gaped at his student as she lowered her arm. 

“I’ll say this once, nice and slow so you can keep up,” Rose said. “If you harm my friends, I’ll make you regret it.” 

Gilderoy nodded his understanding, his eyes wide with fear. 

Who _was_ this girl?! Into what sort of mess had he gotten himself _this_ time? This was supposed to be an easy gig, free publicity and all. Now the Chamber of Secrets had been opened, people kept asking him to find it and kill the monster, and now this… _thing_ that could produce fire without a wand! 

This smug little girl that always had an answer to everything! How _dare_ she steal _his_ spotlight?! 

After the girl left, Gilderoy began working on a plan to get her back. He couldn’t just erase her memory without a good reason. Wait, wasn’t she mad or something? Maybe that would work. No, that would be too easy. He needed to _humiliate_ her first, _then_ wipe her memory. Yes, that would be perfect! 

* * *

Despite Alex’s warning, Rose needed to get to the Room of Requirement to begin a new project. So, that night, she was on her way to the room when she heard a familiar voice. 

“ _Rose?_ ” 

Rose groaned. She was getting tired of this. Every couple of days, she’d hear someone whispering her name, but she knew no one was around to talk to her. It was getting more difficult to ignore the voices. 

“What?!” she shouted back. 

“ _Hello._ ” 

Rose paused, astounded that it had finally stopped saying her name. 

“What?!” she exclaimed. “What are you?” 

“ _I could ask you the same question, Rose Peta-Lorrum._ ” 

Rose smirked. Alice and Shadow had taught her how to spot when a person was avoiding her question. Well, Alice had taught her how to identify it, and Shadow had taught her how to pull it off successfully. 

“Not gonna answer me, then?” Rose asked. “We can’t have a conversation if you’re not going to tell me anything.” 

“ _I see you’ve learned well from Shadow._ ” 

Rose paused again, then gave a flat “What?” 

“ _I know quite a lot about you, Rose Peta-Lorrum. I know about your brother and sister; I know about your uncle._ ” 

“Shadow was right,” muttered Rose. “The walls _have_ got ears.” 

“ _I know about your parents._ ” 

“Alright,” Rose said. “You’ve got my attention, whatever you are. What do you want?” 

“ _Why must I want–_ ” 

“If you know so much about me, you should know that I’m impatient. Get to the point soon, or I start ignoring you.” 

For a few moments, there was nothing. Then the voice said, “ _I see you’re smarter than you seem._ ” 

“I wish I could say the same for you, but right now, you’re kinda underwhelming.” 

Rose literally patted herself on the back for correctly using the word “underwhelming”. 

“ _You are intriguing,_ ” said the voice. “ _I desire to learn more about you._ ” 

“See?” asked Rose sarcastically. “Was that so hard?” 

“ _There is no need for hostility. I mean you no harm._ ” 

“Knowledge can do plenty of harm,” Rose replied. “My sister always told me never to reveal more about myself than necessary to someone I’ve just met. I haven’t actually met you.” 

“ _So you’re not going to help me?_ ” 

“No.” 

“ _So be it. I have more than one way of learning about you, Rose Peta-Lorrum. You telling me about yourself was the easy way, but you have chosen the hard way. Remember that this was_ your _choice._ ” 

“Ominous,” Rose said, once again patting herself on the back for the “big” word. 

After hearing no response for more than a round, Rose skipped off down the hallway, confident in her ability to fix anything, or anyone, that the Voice could break. 


	13. With Friends like These

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry is nearly killed twice, and someone else is killed once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** J.K. Rowling probably has a lot of friends since she owns Harry Potter.

<Do you really _need_ to improve _Crimson Thorn_? > asked Professor Ozerl. 

<Of course!> Rose exclaimed, laying on a conveniently placed couch in her temporary workshop. <I can’t always depend on Bowie being able to enhance my attacks, so I think it’s about time I improved _Crimson Thorn_. Also, I wanna animate him! >

<In that case, you’ll want _animate weapon_ ,> Oz replied. <The _flying_ property might be useful as well. >

<I can’t add more properties,> Rose pathed. <He’s at his limit.>

<Now, Rose, I’ve seen few people as adept at pushing the limits of magical items as you,> pathed her uncle. <You’ve bypassed the limit on enhancement bonuses by using an actual spell. What do you think you can do for a weapon bonus?>

Rose thought hard about that. She knew Uncle Oz already knew the answer, but with him it was never that easy. He always forced her to arrive at the solution on her own, thus allowing her to learn, whether she wanted to or not. After a few minutes, she arrived at the answer. 

“ _Magic weapon_!” she exclaimed, then realized that her uncle couldn’t actually hear her.  < _Magic weapon_! >

<Well done, Rose,> Uncle Oz replied kindly. < _Greater magic weapon_ lasts for an hour per level and can grant a +5 bonus at level 20. >

<So I can just make a schema for it!> exclaimed Rose. <That frees up an entire +5 for _Crimson Thorn_! >

<And the _flying_ property is only a +1, > added Uncle Oz. <What are _Crimson Thorn’s_ current properties? >

< _Keen_ , _merciful_ , _ghost touch_ , and _wounding_ ,> replied Rose. 

<A _ghost shroud_ will turn all of you melee attacks into _ghost touch_ attacks, > pathed Uncle Oz. 

<That answers another question I had,> Rose replied, writing the item down in her notebook. <It’s been hard remembering everything without my books here.>

<You mean the books you keep taking from my library?> asked Uncle Oz. 

<I deny any involvement with the missing books,> Rose replied. 

<You sound so much like your sister,> Uncle Oz sighed. <If it’s damage you require, you’ve got _blades of fire_ and _greater energy surge_. The former is an additional d8 of fire damage, and the latter is an additional 3d6 of any energy type. >

<What about sneak attack?> asked Rose. <That’s how Shadow deals most of her damage. Could I use _hunter’s eye_? >

<Not only that, but you could persist it,> Oz replied. <Maximum 6d6.>

<So that’s an additional 9d6 of damage, plus 1d8,> Rose pathed. <Thanks!>

<Do remember to keep an eye on your XP, Rose,> her uncle reminded her. 

<I made a _thought bottle_! > exclaimed Rose cheerfully. 

<Well, then, that handles that problem,> Uncle Oz replied. <As always, don’t hesitate to ask any questions, Rose.>

<Thanks, Uncle Oz,> Rose pathed. <And… Ask Alice to open my workshop for you. Your books are in there. I’m sorry for taking them.>

<There are plenty of hiding places in your workshop, Rose, but I’m sure I’ll figure out where you’ve put them,> Oz replied. <But most of all, I appreciate your honesty. Thank you, Rose.>

<You’re welcome,> Rose replied, smiling. <I miss you, Uncle Oz.>

<I miss you too, Rose. We all do. Your brother and sister have been worried sick about you since you became trapped in the Rowling Plane. Fortunately, we've been keeping them both as calm as possible.>

Rose smiled. 

<I’ll see you soon, Rose. Take care.>

<You too.>

Rose looked around her acting workshop, still smiling. After a few moments, she happily began to work on _Crimson Thorn_. 

* * *

The following Saturday was the first Quidditch match of the season. As it was the previous year, the match was between Gryffindor and Slytherin. 

“Good luck, Harry,” Sally-Anne said as they dropped off Harry outside the locker rooms. “Stay safe.” 

“I’ll be fine,” Harry replied irritably. Why did everyone have to keep treating him like a child? 

“Just… Please be careful,” Sally-Anne said once more, worry evident on her face. 

“Just because something bad happened _last_ year, doesn’t mean it’s going to happen _this_ year.” 

“If something wasn’t going to happen before, it certainly will _now_ ,” Rose said. “The DM _loves it_ when people insist bad things aren’t going to happen.” 

“Do I want to know?” Harry asked Hermione, who had become the unofficial expert on Rose. 

“No,” Hermione replied, shaking her head. “Don’t worry. If something happens–” 

“Which it _won’t_ ,” Harry said. 

“We’ll handle it, mate,” Ron finished. “Just make sure you stomp on those Slytherins!” 

There was a reason that Ron was his best mate. With everything else that was going on at Hogwarts Ron was still more concerned about Quidditch. It made Harry feel normal, rather than Sally-Anne who kept worrying about him, or Colin who kept trying to take his picture. Harry was still a little annoyed that Sally-Anne had let him take the first one, since it only seemed to make him believe he was entitled to more pictures. 

Why couldn’t he just go take Lockhart’s picture? The man certainly enjoyed the attention, unlike Harry. Also, unlike Harry, Lockhart was willing to _smile_ for the camera. 

Harry had been looking forward to this match for weeks, not just because he enjoyed flying, but because of something he had discovered during practice: The voices stopped. He didn’t know why, but he couldn’t hear the voices when he was practicing Quidditch. Harry honestly didn’t care why, so long as they stayed gone. 

Not two minutes after they took to the air, Harry spotted the Golden Snitch. Floating right next to Malfoy’s left ear. 

At that point, Harry decided that Malfoy had to be the _worst_ Seeker in the history of Quidditch. How was he missing that?! It’s wings weren’t exactly silent. It fluttered around the Slytherin as said Slytherin continued to mock Harry. 

Harry had to be careful not to betray any information, so he did his best to look annoyed at Malfoy’s remarks and not stare at the Snitch. 

After a three long minutes, the Snitch broke away from Malfoy and shot towards the ground, with Harry diving after it, hoping to end this match soon. Sure, Malfoy was on the faster broom, but Harry could outmaneuver him with little difficulty, and before he knew it, Malfoy, the Snitch, and Harry were all in a straight dive. 

The Golden Snitch pulled up at the last second, and Harry with it. Malfoy, however, was not so lucky, and he crashed into the ground, leaving Harry to grab the Snitch. He was almost there, when he heard someone that sounded an awful lot like Wood shout “Look out!” 

Before Harry could process his words, Fred (or possibly George) knocked a Bludger away from Harry. The black ball flew away from them, circled around, then came soaring straight back at Harry. 

“That can’t be good,” Hermione said from the stands. 

The Bludger flew back at Harry from the other side, but the other Weasley twin arrived to deflect it. 

“What’s happening?” asked Harry. 

“Don’t know,” one twin said. “George?” 

“They’ve never done this before,” George said. He turned to look at Harry. “Go after the Snitch. We’ll cover you.” 

Harry flew as best he could with the Twins on either side of him, which was tricky considering he needed to be faster than them. If he didn’t fly fast enough, he couldn’t catch the Snitch. If he flew _too_ fast, then the Twins couldn’t keep up with him and the Bludger could knock him off his broom. Considering he was still wearing the ring Rose made for him, the fall wouldn’t actually hurt him, just the impact from the Bludger. 

“Harry needs help,” Sally-Anne said. 

“Where’s Lockhart?” asked Ron. 

“Not jinxing the Bludger,” Hermione replied after seeing the panic on the Defence Professor’s face. “Neither is Professor Snape.” 

Rose was following the Bludger with her eyes as it continued to loop back around and attempt to hit Harry. 

“Rose, can you do something?” Hermione asked. 

“Blow it up!” Ron exclaimed. 

“Can you hit it from this range?” asked Sally-Anne. 

“Easily,” Rose replied, drawing _Serendipity_. “It’s now a matter of whether I can _destroy_ it.” 

Rose _power surged_ _Serendipity_ then began to take aim at the Bludger. It wasn’t actually that hard to hit a moving target. The Bludger was likely to have a higher Dex Mod than a stationary object, but it was only a diminutive object, all of which meant its AC was approximately 18. Rose could almost literally hit it with her eyes closed. 

Then its hardness came into play. It was a durable object, which probably put its hardness somewhere around 10, but it was smaller, which put its HP around 20. That meant Rose needed to deal 30 damage with the spell she was about to fire at it. 

Considering it would be dealing 40d6 of damage, that wasn’t a problem. 

Rose grinned. 

“ _Disintegrate!_ ” she shouted. 

Up in the air, the Bludger was becoming clever. It was beginning to dodge around Fred and George, nearly hitting Harry more than once. On the ground, Malfoy had recovered and kicked off. 

Just as the Bludger was about to strike him, a green ray lanced out from the stands and struck the Bludger, blasting it into dust. Harry stared at it for a second, then caught a glimpse of the Snitch. He raced after it, catching it with relative ease and winning the match. 

* * *

From his vantage point in the teacher’s stands, Albus watched as the Bludger attacked Harry. He watched as it began to close in on its prey, then saw the green ray streak out from the stands and destroy the ball. Technically, it was against the rules to use magic to aid either team during a match, but destroying a homicidal Bludger didn’t seem like it was intended to necessarily favor either team. 

Albus made a note of that spell that Rose had just used. If he hadn’t seen its source, he would’ve assumed it was a killing curse from the shade of green, but the Killing Curse didn’t turn Bludgers to dust. Not to mention, Rose couldn’t cast the Killing Curse, although judging from what he had just seen, she didn’t _need_ to cast it. Albus was fairly certain that worse spells existed in her world than did here. 

* * *

Harry was greeted by a number of excited fans as he left the Pitch. He pushed his way through the crowd when he spotted his friends. 

“What happened up there?” Ron asked when he reached them. 

“Don’t know,” Harry replied. “Nearly knocked me off my broom. What happened to it?” 

“What else?” Hermione asked. “Rose took it out.” 

“Thanks, Rose,” Harry said, looking around for his crimson-haired friend. “Where is she?” 

“She said she had to pick something up,” Sally-Anne said. 

“Who went with her?” Harry asked. 

“Huh?” Ron asked. “No one.” 

“But we’re not supposed to be alone,” Harry said. 

Was Rose allowed to break the rules? Harry had heard that she was allowed out after curfew, but unofficially. Had she come to some arrangement with Professor Dumbledore? How could he do that? Harry hated hearing the voices, but if no one were around, they couldn’t find out about them. 

Harry was accompanied by a group of adoring fans all the way to the castle. He tried to talk to his friends, rather than his fans, but they kept interrupting him. Harry was glad when they broke apart when they got to the castle. 

His fleeting moment of peace was cut short by an annoying voice. 

“You Gryffindors must be brave to still be here.” 

Then there was Malfoy. He and his two goons had caught up with the group. 

“You know mudbloods and blood traitors will be first on the Heir of Slytherin’s list of victims. It’d be safer just to get out now while you still can.” 

“If you’re here for a fight, Malfoy, you’re outnumbered,” Hermione said, as the group turned to face the three Slytherins. 

“ _Outnumbered?!_ ” exclaimed Malfoy. “Don’t make me laugh, Mudblood. The only one of you competent enough to beat me is the Freak, and she’s not here, is she?” 

“We can take you!” shouted Ron. 

“‘We’?” Malfoy scoffed. “You mean Potter, the Weasel, the Beaver, and the Kitten? Ha! You don’t stand a chance against us!” 

“Back off, Malfoy!” Harry shouted. 

“Or what? What are _you_ gonna do, Potter?” Malfoy spat. “Back down then lie about it?” 

“What did you say?” asked Harry. 

“As if anyone actually believes that you faced the Dark Lord last year,” Malfoy said. “Obviously, you just made it up to impress your three fangirls here.” 

“Oi!” shouted Ron. 

“Harry isn’t a liar!” shouted Sally-Anne. 

_I don’t need your help, Sally-Anne,_ Harry thought. 

“You’ve even got them trained!” Malfoy said, laughing. “Well, almost. Looks like the Beaver needs more work.” 

“Stop it!” shouted Harry. 

“Make me!” Malfoy shot back. 

By now, there was a crowd of people around them, so there were plenty of witnesses when the wands came out. Malfoy and his two goons pulled their wands, and Harry, Ron, and Sally-Anne pulled theirs. 

Harry kept his focus on Malfoy, but he noticed that Hermione wasn’t drawing her wand. What was she doing? 

“You haven’t got the guts to attack me, Potter!” spat Malfoy. “And you know what? I doubt any of your pets here have– AH!” 

Harry looked around, but he couldn’t figure out what had happened. No words had been spoken, no wands had waved, no spells had been fired. Instead, Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were stuck to the ceiling. 

“Great timing,” Hermione panted. 

Harry turned to her and saw Rose standing beside her. 

“I should really consider crafting a staff for that or something,” Rose said, looking up at Malfoy. She turned to Hermione. “I use it an awful lot. Maybe something for a few times a day? I dunno.” Rose snapped her fingers, and the three Slytherins fell from the ceiling and landed hard on the ground. “Better question: How come there are never any professors around when you need them? It’s as if they all know a fight’s about to break out and steer clear of that area.” 

“ _You!_ ” Malfoy hissed. 

“ _Me!_ ” Rose hissed. “If I were you, Butterhead, I’d start running. I’ve been _dying_ to try out _bad touch tentacles_ , so you _really_ don’t want to cross me.” 

“You think I’m just going to walk away?” Malfoy scoffed, brandishing his wand at Rose. “You don’t scare me!” 

“I should’ve left you up there,” Rose said. “Oh well.” She held up her hand, and a sphere of fire appeared in it. “Run. Now.” 

Harry eyed the ball of fire in Rose’s hand. She wouldn’t risk hurting him, would she? Not that it’d matter; the way Malfoy was acting, he deserved it. 

Rose drew back her arm, preparing to roll the ball of fire at Malfoy. 

“She’ll do it, Malfoy,” Ron said. 

“Sh-shut up!” Malfoy stammered. “This… You!” 

“Just run, Draco,” she said. “Don’t look back, just run.” 

Rose rolled the ball along the ground as she said “run”, directing it straight at Malfoy. As it chased him, the Slytherin fled as fast as his legs would carry him. 

After a few seconds, Rose held up her hand. The ball changed direction and rolled back to them. 

“Hermione, would you mind putting that out?” Rose asked. “You can just douse it with water.” 

“I can try,” Hermione said. She squeezed her eyes shut, then chanted, “ _Aguamenti._ ” 

A jet of water sprang out of her wand and doused the orb at her friend’s feet. 

“Perfect!” Rose exclaimed. She turned to her friends as _Serendipity_ disappeared inside her glove. “I can’t always be here to protect you lot. You’ve got to learn to defend yourselves.” 

“I _can_ fend for myself!” Harry exclaimed. “I was handling it just fine before you showed up!” 

“Harry, settle down,” Sally-Anne said gently. 

Harry turned to Sally-Anne. “I don’t need your help, Sally-Anne! I don’t need you to defend me, or ask me if I’m alright, or baby me all the time! And I _certainly_ don’t need you to encourage other people to bother me! I can manage just fine on my own! You’re not being helpful, you’re just being annoying!” 

Sally-Anne’s face turned red, and her eyes began to water. 

“I’m… I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Excuse me.” 

She pushed past everyone and ran. 

Rose watched her friend run off crying, then turned to Harry. 

“There are three types of people,” Rose said. “When a disaster hits, and the dust has settled, there are those who attempt to help the victims, those who do nothing, and those who seek revenge.” _Serendipity_ appeared in her hand. “I fall into that last category.” 

Harry began to back away from Rose. He had seen what she did to people that upset her friends. Alright, he’d seen what she did to Malfoy and those Ravenclaw students that had mocked Luna, but he _didn’t_ need to experience it firsthand. 

“Everyone who doesn’t want to get hit, clear away from Potter,” Rose said. 

The color drained from Harry’s face. He’d just survived a wild Bludger, but it was his friend that was going to get him? 

“You think I’m kidding?” Rose asked when no one moved. She raised her arm and a blast of fire shot out of her outstretched hand. “Six.” 

_She wouldn’t!_ Harry thought, turning to Hermione. She’d stop Rose, wouldn’t she? Hermione exchanged looks with Harry. She was just as surprised as he was. 

“Five.” 

The hallway began to clear, save for Rose and Harry. Even Hermione and Ron were backing away. 

“Four.” 

“Rose!” Hermione shouted. 

“Run after her and apologize, Potter,” Rose said. “Three.” 

Harry had no idea what to do anymore. He couldn’t concentrate on anything except his impending demise at the hands of Rose. What would happen when she reached zero? He wanted to run after Sally-Anne, but he was too shaken up from everything that had happened in the past hour, not to mention the fact that Rose was standing between him and his friends. 

First he was nearly killed by a Bludger, then he was harassed by Malfoy, now this! When would it end? 

“Two.” 

“Hermione, what’s she going to do?” Ron whispered. 

“ _Black tentacles_ ,” she breathed. “She said earlier she really wanted to try it out.” 

“One.” 

Harry was still frozen with fear, unable to react or think. This was it; he was going to die. He had made his friend cry, which, from what he had seen, was punishable by death in Rose’s view of reality. 

To his surprise, Rose didn’t kill him, but instead lowered her wand. 

“Four words,” Rose said. “That’s all I need to make your day worse, Potter.” 

Rose turned around and walked over to Ron and Hermione. She whispered something to them, then vanished in a burst of rose petals. 

As the crowd of people began to disperse, Hermione and Ron simply stared at Harry. 

“What’d she say?” he asked them as his voice returned. 

“Why didn’t you tell us?” asked Ron. 

Harry went pale. She couldn’t have told them. He ran over to his friends, both of whom were still shocked by whatever it was that Rose told them. 

“Tell you what?” he whispered. 

“That you’ve been hearing voices!” Hermione hissed. “Is _that_ why you’ve been so quiet lately?” 

Why couldn’t Rose have just killed him?! At least it would’ve been over quickly! Now he had to suffer through his friends thinking he had gone mad. 

“Come on,” Hermione said. “I know the good hiding spots on this floor, so I’m pretty sure I know where Sally-Anne is. Let’s go talk to her and sort this out.” 

“Wait, why?” Ron asked. When Hermione glared at him, he added, “Why do you know the hiding spots?” 

“Because I’ve run off crying before,” Hermione said. “And I decided that six floors was too much for when I get upset, so it would probably be a good idea to have a backup.” 

“You mean the common room?” Ron asked. 

“Sort of,” Hermione replied. “It’s a long story.” 

Harry was paying no attention to his friends. He just wanted this day to be over. 

* * *

Sally-Anne looked around. It was bad enough that her best friend had just shouted at her like that, but now everyone was staring at her. Her mind was breaking down; she couldn’t think clearly enough to respond. She felt as if she had just been slapped. She felt small, embarrassed, and just wanted to run away, so that’s exactly what she did. 

Sally-Anne turned and ran through the crowd of people, keeping her head down to avoid the eyes of any other student. She could hear them whispering behind her as she ran, but she didn’t look back; she just kept running. She didn’t stop running until she found sanctuary in the form of the first-floor girls’ bathroom. Her vision was blurry from tears, and she wasn’t paying attention to anything except finding a place to hide. 

Sally-Anne closed the door and sunk to the ground as the tears began to flow unfiltered. 

She sat there and cried for what seemed like hours. How did this happen? Harry was her best friend, but she didn’t realize that she had been upsetting him this entire time. How could she not have realized it? Sally-Anne was supposed to be the people person, wasn’t she? 

Harry had always been shy and reserved, but now Sally-Anne was beginning to wonder if he _hadn’t_ been shy, and she had just assumed he was since he didn’t talk much. What if he just didn’t like talking? If so, why? Why wouldn’t he want to open up to them? What had his aunt and uncle done to him to make him like this? What was happening to him that was so horrible that he couldn’t, or _wouldn’t_ , talk about it? 

Sally-Anne wanted to know the answers, but she couldn’t figure out how she’d ever discover them. Harry certainly wasn’t talking, and it wasn’t as if she could just read his mind. 

To make matters worse, Sally-Anne knew she had a crush on him. She hadn’t wanted to admit it at first, since she was afraid it would complicate matters, but she had slowly come to accept it. Not that it mattered now. After what Sally-Anne had done, there was no way that Harry would ever like her as much as she liked him. It was hopeless. 

So Sally-Anne sat and cried. She cried because she had upset her best friend, the boy she liked; because he had yelled at her and made her feel ashamed; because she had failed at being the kind person she had been working so hard to be. 

“Who’s there?!” wailed a familiar voice. 

Through the fog of misery, Sally-Anne realized that she had taken refuge in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom. 

“Sorry, Myrtle,” Sally-Anne apologized in between her sobs. “I… just needed to… find somewhere away… from other people.” 

“What about me?” Myrtle wailed. “Aren’t I ‘people’?!” 

Sally-Anne began to cry again as she realized that she had just insulted someone else. She was lousy at this. 

“You are,” she said after she’d calmed down a minute. “Actually, I think you’ll understand what’s going on better than anyone.” 

“What happened?” Myrtle asked. 

“Well…” Sally-Anne began, not wanting to involve someone else if it wasn’t necessary. “I… There’s this boy that I like, and he’s one my closest friends, but he’s been so quiet lately. I just know there’s something bothering him, but he won’t tell me what it is. I thought I was helping him by asking him how he’s doing, just to show that I care, but… but I guess I’ve just been bothering him. Today, he just yelled at me in front of all those people, and now… Now I just feel awful!” 

Sally-Anne dissolved into tears again, the pain of what had happened still fresh in her mind. 

“At least you’ve _got_ friends,” Myrtle said. “I’m all alone here, because no one wants to be Moaning Myrtle’s friend!” 

“I’m sorry, Myrtle,” Sally-Anne said. “We could be friends.” 

“Why would you ever want to be _my_ friend?” Myrtle asked. 

“I try to be nice to everyone,” Sally-Anne replied. “Did your parents ever read you fairy tales when you were little?” 

Myrtle nodded slowly. 

“Mine did, too,” Sally-Anne said. “We saw all sorts of plays and films together, and it made me want to be a hero. I want to help people. I like seeing people happy, so when I see someone upset, I try to make them smile.” 

“Why?” 

“I used to be shy and timid,” Sally-Anne said. She smiled, then wiped some tears from her eyes. “In fact, if I hadn’t met my friend Rose, I probably would’ve just transferred out of Hogwarts at the first opportunity. I was always so scared of everything and everyone, but Rose kept me safe and gave me this ribbon.” Sally-Anne pointed to the green ribbon tied into her hair. “It makes it easier to talk to people, and people keep complementing me on it. After they did that, I started to get the confidence to stand up for other people.” The tears stopped in Sally-Anne’s eyes. “I still remember what that was like, and I decided that I was going to stand up for people that couldn’t help themselves. I realized that I could finally reach my dream and become someone who helps other people.” 

Myrtle looked down and began to cry again. It wasn’t her normal wails, but just a soft cry. “Wish I had friends like that.” 

“Like I said, I’ll be your friend, Myrtle.” 

Myrtle looked at Sally-Anne for a moment, then slowly said, “You’re different to the others.” 

“Thanks,” Sally-Anne replied. “I’m Sally-Anne, by the way. Sally-Anne Perks. What’s your name?” 

“Myrtle.” 

“Your full name,” Sally-Anne said, laughing a little. 

“Myrtle Warren.” 

“It’s nice to meet you, Myrtle Warren,” Sally-Anne said. She extended her hand, but then quickly receded it. “Sorry, I forgot you’re a ghost.” 

“It’s nice to meet you, Sally-Anne,” Myrtle replied, smiling. She floated over to Sally-Anne and sat down. “This boy you like. Is he nice?” 

“I thought he was. He always seemed so shy, but something’s been bothering him lately. He won’t tell me what, and now I don’t know if I’ll ever get through to him.” Sally-Anne stopped, realizing that if she continued down a Harry-related path, then it would undoubtedly end in tears. “What about you? Were there any boys you liked when you were in school?” 

“Well,” Myrtle said shyly as she sat down in front of Sally-Anne. “There was _one_ boy, but I’m not sure he ever noticed me. He was always _so_ nice, and he had the best smile. He just had that sort of face that made you trust him. I always… Never mind.” 

“It’s alright,” Sally-Anne said. She laughed. “Trust me, nothing you say will sound more ridiculous than some of the stuff Rose says.” 

“I… I always imagined he’d be a knight that would save me when I was getting bullied.” 

“Did you get bullied a lot?” asked Sally-Anne. 

Myrtle nodded. “Olive Hornby was the worst. She’d make fun of my glasses, or my pimples, or anything she could! I was such a freak!” 

Myrtle began to wail again, and Sally-Anne made a mental note that she had struck a nerve. 

“It’s alright,” Sally-Anne said as soothingly as she could. “What was the boy’s name?” 

“Tom,” sniffed Myrtle. “He was a Slytherin, _and_ two years older than me, so he was never going to notice me.” 

“So?” Sally-Anne said. “So he was in a different house. If I’ve learned anything from those romance films my parents watch sometimes, it’s that it’s possible to find love even if they’re supposed to hate you. In fact, I think forbidden love is supposed to be better or something. I never really got it, to be honest.” 

“But I’m a Muggle-born!” 

“So am I,” replied Sally-Anne. “But if a Slytherin boy seemed nice, I’d still try to be nice to him.” 

“But wouldn’t it be hopeless?” 

“I don’t know.” Sally-Anne frowned. “Maybe, but it can’t hurt to try!” 

“ _You_ might succeed,” Myrtle said. “ _You’re_ pretty! I bet you’ll be asked out by a hundred boys before you leave, but not me. Never me!” 

“You’re pretty too, Myrtle,” Sally-Anne said. “Your glasses look lovely on you, and I love the pigtails you’ve got your hair in.” 

“You’re just saying that,” Myrtle replied. “No one ever liked me.” 

“Their loss, then,” Sally-Anne said, determined to cheer up her new friend. She wracked her head for something encouraging to say. “If they didn’t see what a worthwhile person you were, then too bad for them. I see it.” 

Myrtle smiled. “Thanks, Sally-Anne.” 

“You’re welcome, Myrtle,” Sally-Anne replied, climbing to her feet. “I had probably better head back to my room. I just remembered I’m not supposed to be alone in the castle after that attack.” 

“What attack?” Myrtle asked, floating to her feet. 

“The one on Hallowe’en,” replied Sally-Anne. “Mr. Filch’s cat was petrified, and I don’t think the teachers know why yet.” 

“Oh,” Myrtle said. 

“I’ll see you later, Myrtle,” Sally-Anne said. “Next time I’ll bring Rose with me. I think you’d like her.” Sally-Anne smiled. “She’s _my_ knight in shining armor.” She paused, then quickly added, “Please don’t tell her I said that.” 

Myrtle smiled. “I won’t. Bye, Sally-Anne.” 

Sally-Anne turned to open the door. As her hand reached the doorknob, she heard a hissing sound. 

“What was that?” she asked. 

Myrtle looked around her bathroom, terror in her eyes. 

“Myrtle, what is it?!” 

Myrtle shrieked. 

Sally-Anne followed her gaze and saw something on the ceiling. It was massive and covered in shimmering, green scales. It looked an awful lot like a snake. 

“What is–?” 

Sally-Anne never finished her sentence. The moment she saw its burning, goldenrod eyes, everything went black. 


	14. Always the Victim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rose beats up a big snake, Ron and Hermione do some thinking, and Severus does some groaning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** In order to avoid being the victim of anything, I would like to remind everyone that J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter.

After Rose left the scene she’d created, she focused on finding Sally-Anne. One of her friends was already attacked once that day (twice if she counted her own actions), and she didn’t want anything to happen to the others. 

Rose held _Serendipity_ to her face and cast _discern location_. The somatic component wasn’t strictly necessary, but it always looked so _kethé_ when Sk’lar did it, so Rose wanted to do it too. 

“That’s not good,” Rose said as the results came up inconclusive. “It shouldn’t do that unless…” 

Rose’s eyes grew wide. Fact One: There was a monster on the loose. Fact Two: It was known to target Muggle-born students. Fact Three: Her friend was Muggle-born. Fact Four: The monster killed a girl 50 years ago. Fact Five: The only reason that _discern location_ failed to find a person was if that person was dead. 

Conclusion: Sally-Anne had been killed by the Monster of Slytherin. 

“Unless I’m too late,” Rose breathed. 

Rose immediately cast _discern location_ , targeting not Sally-Anne, but her _body_. She found that her friend’s body lay in one of the first-floor bathrooms, then teleported herself there. 

On the ground was Sally-Anne. The color had already started to drain from her body, and her eyes were still open. Her face was frozen in a look of horror, as if she were trying to scream but couldn’t. In the far corner to her left, Rose could hear whimpering, the source of which was probably Moaning Myrtle. 

“Myrtle, is that you?!” she shouted. 

“Y-yes!” she stammered. 

“ _Another victim._ ” 

Rose knew that voice. It was the voice that moved through the hallways. Following her _blindsight_ , Rose looked up and met the gaze of the Monster of Slytherin. 

It was at least 60 feet long and covered in green scales. It was coiled around the ceiling, staring at Rose with its eyes that reminded her just a little too much of dragon’s eyes. 

“ _Why isn’t it dead?_ ” hissed the snake, flicking its forked tongue in and out of its mouth. “ _How can it meet my gaze?_ ” 

“Good question,” Rose said, extending her right arm. “I hate to tell you, but you’ll never find out.” 

She called _Crimson Thorn_ from her glove, and… nothing happened. 

_Right, he’s with Inar._

The snake lunged at Rose, who threw herself at her attacker. She couldn’t risk Sally-Anne’s body being damaged, but she couldn’t let the monster escape her. 

Rose and the snake collided, and Rose drove them away from Sally-Anne. She grasped her hands together and slammed the snake into the floor. 

The serpent reared up for another attack. It bared its fangs at Rose, then lunged forward towards the Artificer. Rose vanished, appearing a few feet away from her foe. She grabbed the beast with one hand and tossed it a few feet into the air, then spun around and caught it with an uppercut. Carried by her momentum, Rose swept her foot into the belly of the snake. 

While _Crimson Thorn_ was being modified, Rose had a few new modifications to her equipment. Her favorite of which was her new _schema of hunter’s eye_. As her uncle had reminded her, it added an additional 6d6 of sneak attack damage whenever sneak attack applied. Since Rose was perpetually _blinking_ , sneak attack _always_ applied. 

The snake coiled back, attempting to regain a foothold in the fight, but as it looked for its prey, the red human had vanished. The human appeared again and struck its face, vaulting off the serpent as it did. 

Rose brought her elbow down on the snake as she _blinked_ again, temporarily vanishing from sight to keep her opponent off its game. She slid down the side of the beast, landing squarely on her feet. 

Rose faced her opponent, as it did the same. It glared at Rose with its cold, yellow eyes, then did the last thing Rose would’ve expected: It ran away. 

The beast fled into one of the stalls. Rose tried to open it, found it was locked, then punched the door off its hinges. When she got inside, she found nothing inside the stall but a toilet. 

“Well, at least now I’ve got information,” she muttered, turning around and walking back out of the stall. 

Rose went through everything she had just learned as she ran over to Sally-Anne’s body. She now knew that the monster was a large snake, and it was capable of killing people without leaving a scratch. That probably meant death gaze, given its surprise that Rose could stare at it. She wasn’t sure how it was using toilets for teleportation, but she was sure Hermione or Professor Dumbledore would know the answer. 

Rose reached Sally-Anne’s body, then triple-checked that she and Myrtle were the only two in the room. She wasn’t sure if she could trust Myrtle to keep the secret, but she didn’t have much of a choice if she wanted Sally-Anne back. 

“Myrtle,” Rose said. 

“What?” came the weepy reply. 

“It’s gone, Myrtle. You can come out now.” 

“It doesn’t matter,” Myrtle sobbed. “The first friend I’ve had in 50 years, and now she’s dead!” 

“Don’t worry, Myrtle,” Rose said. “I can fix anything.” 

Myrtle flew over to Rose. “How can you fix her?” sobbed Myrtle, pointing at Sally-Anne. “ _She’s dead!_ ” 

“I know,” Rose said. “She’s my friend, too.” 

“It’s not fair!” Myrtle wailed. 

“Neither is life, but that won’t stop me from trying to make it fair for people like us.” 

“Us?” 

“People like you, me, Luna, Hermione, and Sally-Anne. People who are different. People out there try to make us feel bad because of it.” 

“Aren’t you the girl that tried to talk to me last week?” Myrtle asked. 

“Yup,” Rose said, producing _Serendipity_. “My name’s Rose Peta-Lorrum. I’m the Crimson Artificer of Arcrel.” 

“The what of what?” 

<Rose, how are you going to explain this?> Reflectesalon asked her. 

<Explain what? She was attacked, but I saved her.>

<You can’t tell anyone that you can bring people back to life.>

“I’ll make you a deal,” Rose said. “First, you’ve got to promise not to tell anyone I can do this.” 

“Do what?” 

“Promise.” 

“Okay, I guess,” Myrtle said. “What are you going to do?” 

<Not what I meant. I meant the professors. They’ll want to know why isn’t she petrified.>

Rose _power surged_ _Serendipity_. Rose waved her wand over Sally-Anne’s body and whispered, “ _d’so Gretydd alhel._ ” 

“Promise me that you’ll never tell a soul,” Rose said. 

“What did–” 

Myrtle was cut off by Sally-Anne gasping for breath as life returned to her body. Color returned to her cheeks, and her body began to warm up as blood began to flow through her veins once again. 

Before doing anything else, Rose _power surged_ _Serendipity_ again and immediately cast another spell. 

“ _I wish she were petrified._ ” 

Sally-Anne’s body froze, just like Mrs. Norris’s had. Her eyes were frozen open, and she looked liked she had just been attacked. Either that, or she was in the middle of coughing and spluttering because life had just been restored to her body. Rose hoped that no one would pick up on that. 

“Promise?” asked Rose. 

Myrtle was still too shocked to say anything, but nodded her head to show that she understood. 

Reflectesalon was right; Rose would need proof that Sally-Anne had been attacked, and an unconscious girl was no proof. A _petrified_ girl, one that mirrored the state in which they had discovered Mrs. Norris, would scream “Monster of Slytherin”. 

“You can never tell her,” Rose said. “Not ever.” 

“I won’t,” Myrtle said. 

Uttering a few more words, Rose and Sally-Anne appeared in the Hospital Wing. 

“Ms. Peta-Lorrum, I’ve asked you before not to– WHAT HAPPENED?!” Madame Pomfrey exclaimed when she saw Sally-Anne. “What did you do?!” 

“Nothing,” Rose replied, more than a little offended by the assumption that she was to blame. What had she _ever_ done here to deserve that? “She was attacked by the Monster of Slytherin.” 

Madame Pomfrey stared at Rose for just a second, then raced to her office. 

“Contact Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, Babbling, and Snape!” Rose shouted after her. 

<Hermione, come to the Hospital Wing as fast as possible. Bring Ron and Harry with you. Sally-Anne’s been attacked.>

Rose laid Sally-Anne down on one of the beds. 

“Contact Albus, Severus, Bathsheda, and Minerva,” Poppy ordered the portraits. “Inform them that there has been another attack! NOW!” 

There were over a dozen portraits in the Hospital Wing, and _all_ of them bolted from their canvases to obey the Mediwitch’s commands. A few of them even saluted her on their way to find the professors. 

Rose sat down on the bed next to Sally-Anne’s and smiled as she bounced on it. 

<Rose, shouldn’t you be acting more concerned right now?> Reflectesalon asked her. 

<Right,> Rose replied, turning to Madame Pomfrey. “Haven’t you got anything _faster_ than the portraits?” 

Madame Pomfrey glared at her. 

“I’ll take that as a ‘No’.” 

Professor Babbling was the first to arrive at the Hospital Wing. Her eyes grew wide when she saw Sally-Anne frozen in her bed. 

“Sally-Anne!” she exclaimed, rushing to the side of her youngest student. 

She looked around and spotted Rose. 

“What happened?!” she demanded of the crimson-haired girl. 

“She was attacked,” Rose replied. “I’m not explaining more until we’ve gathered everyone.” 

A minute later, Professors McGonagall and Snape arrived, followed by Hermione, Harry, and Ron. Not 30 seconds after they arrived, Professor Dumbledore arrived in a flash of fire, Fawkes perched on his arm. 

“That is so _kethé_!” Rose exclaimed. “It’s like _stormwalk_ but with _fire_!” Rose quickly scribbled down a reminder to ask her brother if he could spellcraft a spell like that for her to use. 

<Focus,> Reflectesalon pathed. 

“Apologies for my delayed arrival,” Professor Dumbledore said. “What happened?” 

“She was attacked by the Monster of Slytherin,” Rose replied. “Which, by the way, is a giant snake. She was in the first floor bathroom when I found her like this. The monster was also there, although I think it didn’t want to be seen, so it ran off.” Rose grinned. “Also, I think I nearly beat it to death.” 

“Why didn’t it just kill you?” Professor Snape asked, sceptical as ever of her. 

“It tried,” Rose scoffed. 

“Why not just kill it with _Crimson Thorn_ like you did the… erm…” Hermione’s voice trailed off as she realized that the staff members in the room were all staring at her. 

“ _Crimson Thorn_ isn’t on me at the moment,” Rose replied. “I’m making some modifications to him, otherwise that thing would’ve been in pieces by now.” 

“Circling back to that,” Professor McGonagall said to the crimson-haired girl. “What else did you see? Other than a snake, what was it?” 

“Giant, green snake,” Rose said. “It was confused about how I could look it in the eye, and it killed Myrtle 50 years ago without leaving a scratch on her, so I’m guessing it’s got a death gaze.” 

“ _Moaning_ Myrtle?” Ron asked. 

“It sounds to me like a basilisk,” Professor McGonagall said. 

“No, basilisks look completely different,” Rose said. “They’ve got legs, and they don’t kill with their gaze, they just petrify. Also, they’re not _nearly_ that durable. I must’ve dealt a good 150 points of damage to that thing, and it was still standing… Sort of.” 

Everyone in the room stared at Rose, except for Harry, who was trying to avoid eye contact. 

“Also, they’re not _nearly_ that big,” Rose added. “This thing was _enormous_. A good 50 feet at least.” 

“Which is about the size of a fully grown basilisk,” Professor Dumbledore said. 

Rose opened her mouth to argue, but Reflectesalon cut her off. 

<It may be the same as the troll. Monsters are different in this world than in ours, Rose.>

“Oh,” Rose said. “I didn’t know they could get that big.” 

“How did it get away?” Ron asked, drawing attention to himself. 

“I’m just saying,” he said, noticing the questioning looks he was receiving. “I think we all know by now she can apparate, even inside Hogwarts. How does _anyone_ escape her?” 

“That’s a good point, Mr. Weasley,” Professor McGonagall said. “Ms. Peta-Lorrum, how _did_ that basilisk escape?” 

“Good question, Professor McGonagall,” Rose replied. She leaned in closer. “I believe it can teleport… using the toilets!” 

She waved her hands for effect. 

Professors Babbling and McGonagall, along with Hermione, sighed. 

“Really?” asked Professor Snape. 

“I’ve got nothing better,” Rose said, shrugging. “It fled into one of the stalls, and by the time I got to it, it was gone. The stall was locked, and I didn’t realize it was, otherwise I would’ve slid under it.” She grinned. “Just like Carolina would’ve done.” 

“Ms. Peta-Lorrum, there is a monster on the loose that attacked one of your friends,” Professor McGonagall said. “ _Please_ take this seriously.” 

“If not for us, then for her,” Professor Dumbledore added. 

“Wait, Professors,” Hermione said, a thought suddenly striking her. “I think she’s onto something. The toilets here never clog, right?” 

“They are enchanted to grow as big as is necessary,” Professor McGonagall said. “One less task that Mr. Filch needs to do.” 

“So, for instance, if a giant snake were to go through them, they would grow to accommodate it?” Hermione asked. 

“Very good, Ms. Granger,” Professor Dumbledore said with a hint of pride. “Five points each for you and Mr. Weasley.” 

Rose beamed with pride, delighted that Hermione was still as clever as always. 

“So we know what the monster is and how it’s been navigating the school,” Professor Babbling said. “That doesn’t fix Ms. Perks here.” 

“Nor does that stop any other students from being harmed,” Professor McGonagall added. “A fully grown basilisk is dangerous. We should evacuate the school until we’ve contained it.” 

“But then what?” Rose asked. “This doesn’t change anything. All we know is what it is with what we’re dealing, but it’s still being controlled by someone. Not to mention, you knew it was capable of killing students before I saw it, and didn’t do anything other than tell us to stick together.” 

“Yes, but there’s no way to fight a basilisk, Ms. Peta-Lorrum,” Professor Dumbledore said. “It was possible that once we found out about it, we could hold mandatory seminars to train the students. Once a basilisk sees you, you’re dead.” 

“Then how did it petrify Sally-Anne and Mrs. Norris?” Ron asked. “Why didn’t they both die?” 

“Another good question, Mr. Weasley,” Albus said. 

Rose was impressed with how much her friends were thinking. She knew even seasoned adventurers stopped asking questions sometimes, so that they were both on their toes was a good sign. 

She also noticed that Harry hadn’t taken his eyes off Sally-Anne since arriving in the Hospital Wing. Did he feel bad about what happened? Rose hoped he did; it was his fault Sally-Anne was attacked. 

“Wait, wasn’t there a puddle of water near Mrs. Norris when we found her?” Hermione asked. “What happens if you just see a reflection of the Basilisk?” 

_Maybe they’re_ too _clever,_ Rose thought. 

Rose began to panic as she realized that Sally-Anne might not have been looking down when Rose petrified her. Sally-Anne would need to have been looking down for the Basilisk to have petrified her. That’s where the puddles were in the bathroom, after all. 

“What about Sally-Anne?” Ron asked, looking at his petrified friend. 

“It appears as if poor Sally-Anne was looking straight ahead,” Professor Dumbledore said, catching on to the theory Ron was presenting. “Which probably means she saw the reflection in a mirror in the bathroom.” 

Rose caught herself before she breathed a sigh of relief. Of all the people in that room, mirrors should’ve occurred to her first. After all, she wore a mirror as jewelry. 

“But now what?” Professor Babbling asked. “Now we know what it is, but we can’t find it. We don’t know where the Chamber of Secrets is, nor do we know who the Heir of Slytherin is.” 

“I can help you on the first two,” Rose said. “I can find the Basilisk and the Chamber of Secrets, but I can’t tell you who the Heir is.” 

“Then why not just do it and be done with it?” Ron asked. 

“We don’t know what’s in there,” Hermione said. 

“Ms. Granger is right,” Professor Dumbledore said. “We could be charging straight into a trap.” 

“Anything could be down there,” Professor Snape added. “The Basilisk, if that is _really_ what it is, may not be the _only_ creature in the Chamber.” 

“Excellent point, Professor Snape!” Rose exclaimed, beaming. 

“What about Sally-Anne?” 

Hermione and Ron nearly jumped when they heard Harry’s voice. Their friend hadn’t spoken since Hermione had received Rose’s message that Sally-Anne had been attacked. 

Rose smiled. “You lot are forgetting something.” 

“Oh?” Professor Dumbledore asked. “What would that be?” 

“I can fix anything.” 

_Serendipity_ appeared in Rose’s hand, a feat that still surprised some of the staff. Waving her over Sally-Anne’s petrified form, Rose muttered her _wish_ , once again in Dwarven. 

“ _D’so Gretydd karel._ ” 

As she did, Sally-Anne began to spasm as she regained consciousness and control of her limbs. Her head darted around the room as her surroundings sunk into her foggy mind. She looked around the room at all the people staring at her. 

“Oh thank goodness you’re alright,” Hermione said, hugging her friend. 

“Oh sure, you hug _her_ ,” Rose complained. 

“She doesn’t compulsively hug _me_ ,” Hermione shot back. 

“What happened?” Sally-Anne asked, rubbing her head after Hermione let her go. “Where am I?” 

“You’re in the Hospital Wing, Sally-Anne,” said Professor Babbling calmly. “You were attacked by the Monster of Slytherin.” 

“Can you remember what happened to you?” Professor Dumbledore asked. 

“I was talking to Myrtle, then I heard this hissing sound, and now I’m here.” 

Sally-Anne furled her brow as she tried to concentrate on what had happened. She remembered running off, then talking to Myrtle. She was just leaving when there was a noise, then… nothing. 

“I’m sorry, I really can’t remember much more than that.” 

“It’s alright, Dear,” Madame Pomfrey said, speaking up now that she was needed. “We’ll let you be so you can get some rest.” She turned to glare at the professors before they could ask the poor victim any further questions. 

“A splendid idea,” Professor Dumbledore said cheerfully. “If you remember anything else, please inform one of us, Madame Pomfrey, or Rose.” 

“Why Rose?” Ron asked. 

“Because there seems to be a short delay between informing Rose of something and her informing me.” 

Rose grinned. “Glad to help!” 

“Quite.” 

Sally-Anne watched as the professors departed the Hospital Wing. 

Rose stared at Madame Pomfrey for a minute before the mediwitch retreated to her office. 

“How’s everyone doing today?” Rose asked, smiling at her friends. 

Sally-Anne looked at each of them, but no one wanted to speak. Worst of all was Harry, who wouldn’t meet her gaze. When she remembered him screaming at her, she stopped trying. 

“So, I think it’s sharing time,” Rose said. “My name’s Rose, and I’m an Artificer. You lot already know that.” She turned to Harry. “This is Harry, and he’s been hearing voices for the past few weeks.” 

Sally-Anne looked at Rose, then at Harry. Was _that_ what was bothering him? Why hadn’t he said something? 

She turned to Hermione. “This is Hermione, and her hair is looking wonderful today.” Next was Ron. “This is Ron, and he’s… actually honest about stuff. Good work, Cohort.” Finally was Sally-Anne. “This is Sally-Anne, and she’s got a rune on her hand.” Rose grinned. “Ha! That rhymed.” 

Sally-Anne blushed and hid her hands. There was no denying it anymore, now that Rose had said something, but she still wanted to try. What was Rose doing? 

“Alright,” Hermione said. “First, thank you for the complement.” 

“You’re welcome!” 

“Second: Sally-Anne, _why_ is there a rune on your hand?” 

Sally-Anne turned over her left hand so that the others could see the rune. “It’s something Professor Babbling’s been teaching me. It’s called a Shield Rune.” 

“I’ve read about those,” Ron said. “I… Did I really just say that?!” 

“You did,” Rose said, grinning. 

Hermione laughed. “Welcome to the Dark Side.” 

“More like the… da… do… I dunno,” Ron muttered, failing to devise a clever comeback. “Anyway, that’s a little advanced for a second-year.” 

“Ronald!” Hermione snapped. 

“He’s right,” Sally-Anne said, before another fight could break out. “I still haven’t got the hang of it. I’m sorry for keeping it a secret, but Professor Babbling didn’t want anyone to know about it.” 

“Harry, take note,” Rose said. “ _That_ is a valid reason for not telling one’s friends about something important. She was under strict orders to be silent.” 

An awkward silence fell over the group. Sally-Anne wanted to tell Harry it was okay, but she didn’t know if _he_ wanted her to. She just wanted to help him. What was wrong with that? 

Rose was starting to glare at Harry. He didn’t deserve that. The whole fight was Sally-Anne’s fault, after all. She’d done something wrong, and Harry’d lashed out at her for it. 

“Why are you doing this?” Harry asked Rose. “Why not just leave us alone?” 

“Because people are worried, and a team shouldn’t keep secrets.” 

“Says the pot to the kettle,” Ron muttered. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Sally-Anne asked Harry. 

“I don’t want people to think I’m going mad like Rose,” Harry replied. 

“Hearing voices is bad,” Ron said. 

“I hear them too!” Rose exclaimed. 

“See?” Ron said. “Bad! You should’ve told _someone_.” 

“But that’s exactly why I _didn’t_ ,” Harry replied. “Rose said that every time she does, she’s nearly expelled. What if they threw me out? I can’t leave Hogwarts, it’s the only home I’ve got!” 

“They won’t throw you out,” Rose said. “The only reason they keep trying to get rid of me is because they know I’m different. They’re afraid of me, that’s all. You’re a relatively normal kid. No one will care if you hear a few voices.” 

“ _We_ care,” Sally-Anne said, glaring at Rose. 

She turned back to Harry and smiled at him. Even after she was attacked, she still wanted to see Harry smile again. Maybe now that she knew, he’d smile again. 

“Besides,” Hermione said. “Rose doesn’t hear imaginary voices. She hears the school.” 

“I don’t think it’s the school,” Harry said. “I keep hearing someone talking about killing people.” 

“Oh,” Rose said. “That’s the Basilisk.” 

“How is Harry hearing the Basilisk?” Hermione asked. 

“The what?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“The Monster of Slytherin,” Hermione explained. 

“The only way he could do that is if he was a parselmouth,” Ron scoffed. 

“Alright, that one’s _got_ to be made up,” Rose said. 

“What’s a parselmouth?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“Someone who can communicate with snakes,” Hermione replied. 

“And I think Harry would know if he could talk to snakes,” Ron said, still laughing. “Right, Harry?” 

Harry didn’t reply. He stared down at his feet. 

“That’s… er…” 

“When?” Rose asked. 

“What?!” Ron exclaimed. 

“Shh!” Harry hissed. 

“It’s happened before, hasn’t it?” Rose asked. 

“I thought Ref wasn’t reading our minds anymore,” Hermione said accusingly, knowing full well that Rose wasn’t observant enough to notice when someone was hiding something. 

“He’s under orders to read Harry’s mind if Harry continues to keep secrets from us,” Rose said. 

“You keep secrets from us all the time,” Harry shot back. 

“Yup,” Rose said. 

“Why don’t you tell _us_ something?” Ron asked. 

Sally-Anne agreed that she _did_ keep a lot of secrets from them. Why? If Rose was so against people keeping secrets, why did she keep so many? 

“Harry talked with a snake when he was a kid,” Rose said. “And I don’t tell you lot anything because the secrets I keep are mine alone to bear.” 

“What does that mean?” Ron asked. 

“Leave her alone, Ronald,” Hermione said. 

Sally-Anne figured if anyone knew Rose’s secrets, it was Hermione. Which meant if they wanted to know, they didn’t need to ask Rose; they could ask Hermione instead. 

_No, Sally-Anne, that’s wrong,_ she told herself. _Ask Rose if you want to know, not Hermione. You wouldn’t want people doing that to your friends, would you?_

“It was on Dudley’s eleventh birthday,” Harry said. “My sitter, Mrs. Figg, had broken her leg so the Dursleys had to take me along with them.” 

“Where?” Sally-Anne asked, smiling at him. 

_He’s talking again! Wait, he’s talking. Focus!_

“The zoo. I… I accidentally used wandless magic to make the glass in front of the boa constrictor exhibit disappear. It slithered out, and thanked me for letting it go.” 

“You’re a parselmouth,” Ron said slowly, still shocked by this new turn of events. 

“I guess,” Harry said, shrugging. “I–” 

“That’s passed down in Slytherin’s line,” Ron said. “Something the Heir of Slytherin would have!” 

“The Wizarding World isn’t that big, Ronald,” Hermione said. “ _You’re_ probably related to Salazar Slytherin somehow. So are most of the pureblood families in Britain! Anyone could be a parselmouth, but–” 

“Stop it,” Sally-Anne snapped. “Harry, what were you saying?” 

“I… I didn’t think anything of it at the time. I mean, sure, that snake talked, but I also made the glass disappear. That made two events I couldn’t explain, so… I don’t know, I guess I just sort of… I don’t know, forgot about it?” 

“Bowie says that happens to Spellscales a lot,” Rose said. “They’ve got innate magic, so it manifests occasionally. Some of them don’t understand it, so they just try not to think about it.” 

“That I understood,” Hermione said. 

“I still can’t believe you’re–” Ron began, but Hermione’s hand flew over his mouth. 

Sally-Anne looked around and saw Madame Pomfrey approaching them. 

“That’s enough for today,” she said. “At least three of you need to eat, and Ms. Perks here needs to rest.” 

Ron counted out the people there. “Three?” 

“Four, if Ms. Peta-Lorrum needs to eat,” Madame Pomfrey said with just a hint of irritability in her voice. “Now, off with you four. I’ve been generous enough to let you stay here as long as you have.” 

“May I please have another few rounds?” Rose asked. “Not them, they don’t need to be here for this. I’ve got something for Sally-Anne.” 

“A round is six seconds,” Hermione whispered to Madame Pomfrey. 

“You may have a minute, Ms. Peta-Lorrum. You three may wait outside.” 

After Hermione, Harry, and Ron left, and Madame Pomfrey returned to her office, Rose pulled something out of her picnic basket. 

It was a pendant on an emerald chain. The pendant was a shade of green that matched Sally-Anne’s ribbon exactly, with an intricate Celtic knot pattern etched into it. 

“I saw the pattern the other day, and thought ‘That’s _kethé_ ’,” Rose explained as she handed it to Sally-Anne. “It’s an early birthday present.” 

“Rose, it’s beautiful,” Sally-Anne said. “Thank you.” 

Sally-Anne took it, discovering that the piece of jewelry was lighter than it looked. She easily fastened it around her neck, which was when she remembered something Hermione had said. 

_Everything Rose makes does something._

The second she fastened it into place, Sally-Anne heard voices in her head. 

_How does she make those? She’s such a strange girl, but she’s got talent. I thought that pendant around her neck was complicated, but that one would take weeks, even with magic._

“Rose, what’s it doing?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“ _Detect thoughts_ ,” Rose whispered. “Use it wisely. You’ve got to concentrate to hear anyone’s thoughts, but don’t use it on me, you’ll only end up with feedback and a headache. Occlumency blocks it, so you can’t hear Professor Dumbledore’s or Professor Snape’s thoughts.” 

Sally-Anne’s mind began to open up to the possibilities. She would be able to know what Malfoy was going to do before he did it, giving her a better opportunity to react to him. Was that how Rose was so good at dealing with him? But even better than that was that she could now hear her friends’ thoughts. 

“I can find out when something’s bothering Harry,” she whispered. “I can know how to help him!” 

“I’m trusting you with it because I know you won’t abuse it,” Rose said. “You’re nice, like Carolina. It’s always handy to have a mind reader, but don’t overdo it.” 

Sally-Anne nodded, flattered that Rose trusted her with such a gift. 

“I won’t,” Sally-Anne said. “And… I’d like to ask a favor.” 

“What is it?” Rose asked. 

“Well, I…” Sally-Anne took a deep breath, then said, “Can you teach me to fight?” 

Rose tilted her head. “Why?” 

“I don’t want to be helpless anymore,” Sally-Anne said. “It was actually something Myrtle said. She said she wished that someone would save her from the bullies, and… I want to be that person. I don’t want to be the victim, I… I want to be the hero.” 

Sally-Anne was worried by the look on Rose’s face. She wasn’t excited, but looked almost uncomfortable. Had Sally-Anne misspoken? 

“Alright,” Rose said after their minute was nearly up. “We’ll see what we can do.” She hugged her friend. “Don’t worry about Harry. Once he’s settled down, he’ll apologize.” 

“Thanks, Rose,” Sally-Anne said. “For everything.” 

* * *

Rose lay in bed that night, pondering the events of the day. A Bludger had gone after Harry, then the Monster of Slytherin had gone after Sally-Anne. Rose was afraid to leave Hermione and Luna alone for fear that they would be next. 

<What about Ronald?> Reflectesalon asked. 

<He’s expendable right now,> Rose replied. <He is improving. I’m a little impressed, actually. He might be useful later.>

“ _Remember, Rose Peta-Lorrum_.” She was yanked out of her musings by a familiar voice. “ _You chose the hard way._ ” 

At once, it all dawned on Rose. It was going after her friends. It was going after her friends to get at her. Whatever the source of that voice was, it had sent the Bludger after Harry and the Basilisk after Sally-Anne. 

At that moment, Rose made a decision regarding the owner of that voice. 

It was going to die. 


	15. A Nice Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which our heroes enjoy a lovely day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** It seems like a nice day to remind everyone that J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter.

By Sunday afternoon, word had spread throughout the school that Harry Potter and Sally-Anne Perks had gotten into a fight, Rose Peta-Lorrum could throw people onto the ceiling without a wand, and Sally-Anne had been attacked by the Monster of Slytherin. It was also announced that the monster was a basilisk, it wasn’t likely to bother anyone soon, but people were to start carrying mirrors with them for safety. Professor Dumbledore also reinforced the importance of staying together. Once again, he looked directly at Rose when he said this. 

Unfortunately, since Sally-Anne had been attacked almost immediately after she had gotten into a fight with Harry, most of the students had gotten it into their heads that Harry was the Heir of Slytherin. 

_Why can’t everyone just leave me alone?_ he thought. _I’m just a normal kid. Why won’t they let me be a normal kid?_

That was all Harry wanted. He wanted to be left alone to be normal. He realized that it was just a fantasy, something that would probably never happen, but he kept hoping. Harry didn’t want to be the hero that defeated Voldemort, he just wanted to be Harry. A normal, 12-year-old wizard with black hair. 

“How are you feeling, Harry?” Sally-Anne asked him as the five of them were outside. 

It was Sally-Anne that said that some fresh air would be good for them; that some time out of the castle would make them all feel better. She didn’t tell them that she was afraid that the Basilisk would come after her again, or that she was constantly eyeing the grass and forest, worried that another snake would come after her. Therefore, unlike the rest of her friends, she was sitting on the grass instead of laying on it. 

“I’m alright,” Harry replied, trying hard not to shut out his friends anymore. He and Sally-Anne still hadn’t spoken about their fight, but Sally-Anne wasn’t going to pressure Harry into anything. In fact, she was trying hard to do the opposite, and just let him believe that everything had returned to normal. 

“Is anyone else thinking that Malfoy’s just going to pop up out of nowhere and start a fight?” Ron asked. 

“He does that,” Hermione replied, sitting up to once again brush grass out of her hair. “Rose is here, so she’ll frighten him off.” 

Hermione glanced over at Rose, who was sprawled out over the grass. If she didn’t know better, Hermione would have thought her friend was asleep. It was a little odd seeing her friend so relaxed, rather than… hyperactive. 

“Rose, I’ve got a question,” Hermione said. 

“Shoot.” 

“On one of the first nights at Hogwarts, you told me you were hyperkinetic. Where did you hear about that? Did Sk’lar tell you?” 

“No, I read about it in a book,” Rose replied, not opening her eyes. “Carolina said it would be a good idea to have a reason why I didn’t sleep, and I found that in one of the books I read, so I thought it would make a good cover story.” She grinned. “I didn’t think I’d be talking to a genius when I used it, though.” 

Sally-Anne saw Hermione blush and smile. 

“What’re you smiling about, Hermione?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“Just remembering why Rose and I are friends,” Hermione said. 

“Is it cos I’m adorable?” Rose asked, looking over at her friend. 

“Sure, Rose,” Hermione said. “It can be because you’re adorable.” 

“Yay!” Rose exclaimed. “I’m adorable!” 

Hermione and Sally-Anne both laughed, and even Ron chuckled a little. 

“How do you stay so happy all the time?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“Practice,” Rose replied. “Bad things happen, and you just gotta roll with it.” She beamed. “Besides, worse things have happened!” 

“Sally-Anne was attacked by a giant serpent yesterday,” Ron said. “Last year Hermione was nearly killed by a troll, and you were attacked by You-Know-Who.” 

“Worse things!” Rose exclaimed, throwing her hands up into the air, then allowing gravity to pull them back down onto the grass. 

Sally-Anne was finding it difficult to not read Rose’s mind. She knew it wouldn’t do anything, but it was tempting to try. Her crimson-haired friend remained a mystery. While Rose was forthcoming about certain information, there were still topics on which she refused to speak. 

“What’s worse than almost dying?” Harry asked. 

“Actually dying?” Hermione suggested. 

“I guess that’s true,” Ron said. “It’s not like any of us have died, right?” 

“The Basilisk is still out there, though,” Hermione said. “Who knows what will happen if we stay?” 

“I heard a lot of students are going to be transferring out until it’s handled,” Ron said. “It didn’t take long for the _Daily Prophet_ to catch wind of it.” 

“I’m sure Lockhart’s to blame,” Hermione said with a hint of disgust. 

“Yeah, he’ll do _anything_ for some free publicity,” Ron said. “Did you hear that people are asking him to find the Basilisk and kill it?” 

“I’d love to see _that_ ,” Hermione said, laughing. 

“If it’s anything like class, he’ll just scream and faint,” Harry agreed. 

Sally-Anne was glad that her friend was talking again, but she was becoming uncomfortable with the current topic. She didn’t care for Lockhart, but she was still afraid of the Basilisk. Her friends had brought her up to speed about what they knew, so she knew it traveled through the pipes in the school. What was stopping it from attacking her at night? She hadn’t slept the night before, terrified that it would come after her again. Fortunately, Madame Pomfrey had still let her leave the Hospital Wing that morning to join her friends. Sally-Anne still wasn’t sure why, but she wasn’t about to argue with being allowed to enjoy the nice November morning. 

“Rose, why haven’t _you_ just gone and killed it, yet?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“It’s not like anything in the Chamber of Secrets can kill you,” Ron added. 

“Nothing has been able to kill me _so far_ ,” Rose corrected him. “If Salazar Slytherin hid a basilisk down there, there might be something else. And as apathetic as I am about dying,” Rose added, patting her head for correctly using the word “apathetic”, “I still try to avoid it.” 

“Why did you just pat your head?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“I correctly used ‘apathetic’!” 

“Good work, Rose,” Hermione said. Was it odd that her friend patted herself on her head when using a “big” word? Absolutely, but using big words was also the sort of behavior that Hermione wanted to encourage. 

“Thanks, Hermione!” 

“You’re welcome.” 

“It’s strange,” Harry said. “I thought it would be harder to enjoy the day with a monster on the loose.” 

“Like I said,” Rose said. “It’s gotta recover first. I don’t know if basilisks have fast healing on this plane, but if it doesn’t, then it will be out for a good month. I beat it pretty badly, so it’s going to take it time to recover.” 

“That’s reassuring,” Ron said. “I’m glad I don’t have to worry about _that_ thing.” 

Sally-Anne found an interesting piece of information in Ron’s mind. Not only was he afraid of the Basilisk, but he was afraid that it would attack one of his friends or family. Ron was terrified that it would go after Ginny, and Harry was second on his list of people he didn’t want it to attack. Funny enough, while Sally-Anne and Hermione were both considered, Rose _wasn’t_. Like he had said, he honestly believed that there was nothing that could kill her. 

“It wasn’t really a problem before,” Hermione said. “I think that’s why so few Gryffindor students have talked about leaving. Since Rose can just fix any of the victims that get petrified, they only _need_ to worry about looking directly at it.” 

“And the Gryffindors are the only ones that believe Rose,” Harry said. Looking at Rose, he added, “No offence.” 

“None taken!” Rose exclaimed. 

Sally-Anne had learned a few things about using the amulet that Rose had forgotten to mention, or left for Sally-Anne to figure out for herself. The first was that she shouldn’t try it near most of the teachers, or Rose. Not only could she not read Rose’s mind, but she got feedback when Rose was just within range. Sally-Anne had found out that the same thing happened when some of the teachers were also in range. Or at least Professors McGonagall and Babbling, both of whom had visited them at the Gryffindor table that morning to check on her. 

The second was that she didn’t have to concentrate on a person to use it, which was what she had originally believed, but instead on the amulet itself. This made it more difficult to exclude Rose from the area of the amulet. 

This was the final piece of information that Rose had neglected to mention: The area of the amulet. It was a cone in front of her, although she hadn’t figured out the exact dimensions of it, but spanned well past the edge of the Gryffindor table, which accidentally got her the thoughts of some of the Hufflepuff students if she spaced out while using it. It couldn’t affect someone sitting directly next to her while she faced forward, which was her reasoning for sitting next to Rose at the moment, and part of how she had worked out that it was a cone. 

_At least_ Harry’s _sensitive_. 

Sally-Anne glanced over at Hermione, which was probably a mistake, as she was trying _not_ to react to other peoples’ thoughts. Hermione smiled at her and Sally-Anne smiled politely back. Sally-Anne was pretty sure that Hermione didn’t realize what the amulet did, although if there were anyone that would figure it out, it would be Hermione. 

Sally-Anne glanced over at Rose and saw that the crimson-haired girl was glaring at her. Rose mouthed, “I know you heard that.” 

Sally-Anne frowned at her friend. Sure, Rose could hear her thoughts, but her friend had promised that she _wasn’t_ listening in on them anymore. Rose didn’t know that Sally-Anne liked Harry, did she? Besides, there was no reason to be jealous of Hermione. Sure, she was smarter than Sally-Anne, but Sally-Anne was kind. Not that Hermione wasn’t, but Sally-Anne had put a lot of effort into being a good person. 

Sally-Anne put it out of her mind. There was no need to dwell on it, after all. Sally-Anne relaxed and tried to enjoy the nice day. 

* * *

Monday morning, Sally-Anne and Rose walked with Hermione to Arithmancy. This wasn’t out of the ordinary, as the girls sometimes walked together, and sometimes the boys decided against joining them. What _was_ out of the ordinary was that Rose had tinted her goggles black for some reason. 

“Rose, why are your goggles black?” Hermione asked. 

“It makes me look intimidating,” Rose replied in what the girls were sure was supposed to be a deep voice, but still came out sounding like a child’s voice. The most impressive part of her current composure was her completely stoic face. 

“It really doesn’t,” Hermione replied as Sally-Anne chuckled. 

“Does so!” Rose exclaimed. 

“Why are you trying to look intimidating?” Sally-Anne asked, not certain she knew what the word meant. 

“To keep people from messing with us,” Rose replied. 

“Your presence does that normally,” Hermione said. 

“Why would people want to bother us?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“Not people in general,” Rose said. “But to the Heir, we’re three targets.” 

“Rose, I’m sorry, but you don’t look frightening,” Sally-Anne said apologetically. “You look a little adorable like that, actually.” 

“Aw,” Rose replied as her goggles returned to normal. 

“How did you do that?” Hermione asked her. 

“Ma–” 

“Don’t say ‘magic’!” 

Rose stuck out her tongue at Hermione. 

“Seriously, how do you do that?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“I can alter my appearance at will,” Rose replied as if it were no big deal. 

“Like the Twins?” Hermione asked. “With the hats you made them?” 

“Exact same spell,” Rose replied. 

“If you can look like anyone or anything, why always look like that?” Hermione asked. 

“I like it!” Rose exclaimed, grinning. 

“Sometimes I wish _I_ could change my appearance at will,” Hermione muttered, glancing down at her hair that was currently splayed around her. Try as she might, it was impossible to control her hair, so she settled for out of the way. 

“Why?” Rose asked. “You’re so pretty!” 

“Thanks, but,” Hermione said, forcing a smile, “not everyone thinks that.” 

“It’s alright!” Rose exclaimed. “We do, and that’s what counts! Right, Sally-Anne?” 

“Yeah,” agreed Sally-Anne. “Don’t worry about it, Hermione.” 

Hermione nodded, although she wasn’t entirely convinced that it was alright. For years, she had been teased about her buckteeth and her bushy hair. Her parents always told her that it was only because she was smarter than everyone else, and the other children were afraid and jealous of her because of it. Still, that didn’t stop the words of the other students from hurting her. 

The trio arrived at the Arithmancy classroom, and Hermione bid Sally-Anne and Rose farewell for the time being. She took her seat towards the front of the classroom and pulled out her notebook. 

“Good morning, Hermione,” Cedric said as he arrived. Accompanying him were Roger and Rebecca, the former of whom grinned at her, while the latter scowled. 

“Good morning, Cedric,” Hermione replied. 

“How are you doing?” Cedric asked. 

“Fine,” Hermione said. “You?” 

“I’m alright,” Cedric said. “How’s your friend?” 

“I think she’s still a little shaken up, but Sally-Anne will be alright.” Hermione smiled. “Thanks for asking.” 

“Of course,” Cedric said, smiling back at her. 

Arithmancy continued to be Hermione’s favorite class, but if it hadn’t been for Professor Vector and Cedric being so nice to her, it would’ve been far tougher than it already was. It wasn’t the course work that was difficult. Hermione could handle work with ease, especially work that involved maths, but the other students were making it hard for her. She still felt like they were all staring at her whenever she was in class, and now and then she caught them whispering after she answered a question. 

“Aren’t you worried about the Basilisk?” Rebecca asked her. 

“Not really,” Hermione replied. “It hasn’t left the Chamber of Secrets since Saturday, and Rose said she hurt it pretty badly, so it probably won’t recover for a few weeks.” 

“Wait, what?!” Roger exclaimed. “She _hurt_ it?!” 

“I’ve heard Rose is pretty good in a fight,” Cedric said. “That’s impressive for a second-year. Basilisks are dangerous, especially when you can’t see them.” 

Hermione nodded. “’Impressive’ is one word for it. Rose said she’s got this spell on her called _blindsight_. It lets her sense where people are without needing to see them.” 

Hermione chose not to mention that Rose couldn’t be affected by the Basilisk’s stare. _Blindsight_ wasn’t impossible for a normal magic user to do, but whatever spell Rose had that made her immune to the Basilisk’s stare _was_. Although, what if it _wasn’t_? Hermione made a note in her notebook to research exactly how the stare worked. What if it could be blocked somehow? 

“ _I’ve_ never heard of that spell,” Rebecca said. 

“I heard _Professor Vector_ doesn’t even recognize some of the spells Rose uses,” Cedric said. 

“Where did you hear that?” Hermione asked. 

“One of the other Hufflepuffs heard it,” Cedric said. 

“I still don’t see how a _second-year_ could do magic that the professors don’t know,” Rebecca said. 

“It’s rare, but not unheard of,” Professor Vector said as she entered the room. “We are only human, after all, and we can’t know everything. In fact, it’s more common for orphans and Muggle-borns to know unfamiliar magic than it is for purebloods, Ms. Gamp. Children who don’t know how to use their magic will often teach themselves, which may even result in them inventing spells that no one has seen.” 

_That_ got Rebecca to hold her tongue until class began. Surprisingly enough, no students were missing from class that day. Hermione kept expecting to see the number of students dwindle as more students left to go home. Maybe people weren’t that afraid of a basilisk. 

* * *

“Where are we?” Sally-Anne asked Rose as the latter paced back and forth along the hallway. 

“Room of Requirement,” Rose said. “I need to pick up something, then we can be on our way.” 

“What’s that?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“You’ll see,” Rose replied. 

The plan that day was to visit Myrtle, which meant going to the first-floor bathroom. Sally-Anne was in no hurry to return there, even if it was to visit her new friend. Just passing by it on Sunday had nearly given her a panic attack. Fortunately for her, none of her friends had noticed. 

“There we go!” Rose exclaimed as a door began to appear on the wall. 

“This is amazing!” Sally-Anne exclaimed as they stepped inside and looked around the room. “How long have you known about this?” 

“Depends,” Rose said, skipping over to a small yellow creature walking around the room. “What’s today?” 

“Monday.” 

“Then…” Rose counted on her fingers. “Since the second week of first year or so.” 

“Why haven’t you said anything?” 

Rose shrugged. “I told Hermione about it, but there was a point to it at the time. It’s the place to go when someone needs to be cheered up.” 

Sally-Anne frowned. She tried hard to hide the fact that she was afraid so she could be strong for everyone. “You don’t think _I_ need–” 

“Nope!” Rose said, taking a small red rod from the creature. “Thanks, Inar!” 

Inar nodded, then scurried off to begin organizing the room. 

Rose grinned as she inspected the rod in her hands. 

“What’s–?” Sally-Anne began. 

Rose cut off the other Gryffindor by pushing a button on the rod. With a series of clicks, the rod expanded out in either direction, then a pair of prongs shot out from each end. Finally, with a loud _SHINK!_ a crimson blade extended from either side of the device. 

Sally-Anne recognized the weapon, except for the runes that now decorated the blades. Of course, she had only seen the weapon once before, and that entire day was still a blur. They could’ve been there and she just didn’t notice them. 

“ _Crimson Thorn_ ,” Rose said, grinning maniacally. She swung the two-bladed sword around a few times, then slammed him on the ground. As it struck the ground, licks of flame flared up around it. 

Sally-Anne jumped back, startled by the sudden burst of fire. 

“What?!” she gasped, catching her breath. 

“Some of the modifications I made to him,” Rose said, grinning. “It gets _so_ much better than that.” 

“What’s that mean?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“I mean he’s now a _keen_ , _merciful_ , _flying_ , _disarming_ , _whirling_ , _prismatic burst_ , _everbright_ , _wounding_ , _metalline_ , feycrafted two-bladed sword!” Rose replied as her weapon folded back up. “Uncle Oz reminded me that there were a few properties that didn’t enhance the bonus, so I thought ‘Why not?’” 

Sally-Anne stared at her friend as the metal rod vanished. 

“I know,” Rose said. “I’m awe-inspiring. It’s alright.” 

“Not… I’m… Never mind,” Sally-Anne said. 

After their stop at the Room of Requirement, Sally-Anne and Rose made their way down to the first floor. Sally-Anne began to tremble as they approached the bathroom in which she had been attacked. 

“That happens sometimes,” Rose said. “It’ll pass.” 

Rose took her friend’s hand and opened the door. 

Inside they found Myrtle floating around the bathroom miserably. Sally-Anne was happy to see her face light up when she saw them. 

“Sally-Anne!” Myrtle exclaimed, floating over to them. “Are you alright?! I was so worried!” 

“I’m okay,” Sally-Anne replied. “Like I said, I’ve got Rose here to look after me.” 

Rose curtsied. “It’s nice to officially meet you, Myrtle!” 

“Likewise,” Myrtle replied, still smiling. “I’m so glad you two are alright. When that snake attacked, I was so scared, and–” 

“Don’t worry, Myrtle,” Rose said, grinning. “I’m gonna keep everyone safe!” 

_That’s what_ I _want to do,_ Sally-Anne thought. 

“What was that giant snake?” Myrtle asked. 

“It’s called a basilisk,” Rose said. “It can kill people with a glance. I think it’s what killed you.” 

Myrtle’s eyes went blank, and she stared off into space for nearly a solid minute. 

“Myrtle?” Sally-Anne asked. “Are you alright?” 

“I just remembered,” Myrtle said. She floated over to one of the toilets. “I was here. I was crying because Olive Hornby was picking on me _again_ , and I looked up…” She looked up towards one of the sinks. “And I saw those… those _eyes_ staring back at me. Next thing I know, I’m a ghost.” 

“I’m so sorry, Myrtle,” Sally-Anne said. 

“It’s alright,” Myrtle said. “I think I’ve just about gotten used to being dead.” 

“You’re dead?!” Rose exclaimed. 

Sally-Anne and Myrtle eyed the other Gryffindor, until she grinned at them. Then the three of them broke out laughing. 

“We’ve got to get going,” Rose said. “Sally-Anne and I have got one more stop to make.” 

“We have?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“It was you that wanted to make the stop,” Rose said. 

Sally-Anne thought for a moment. What was it that she apparently wanted to do? Where did she want to go? Was Rose remembering some small thing, some piece of information Sally-Anne had idly mentioned, and forgot immediately after mentioning it. 

“I’m sorry, I’m still confused.” 

“You asked me Saturday night,” Rose said. 

“Oh!” Sally-Anne said. “Right!” She turned to Myrtle. “I’ll see you later, Myrtle.” 

“See you, Sally-Anne!” Myrtle exclaimed. 

* * *

After class, Professor Vector asked Hermione to stay for a moment. Hermione, being Hermione, was terrified beyond all belief. She calmed herself down by reassuring herself that it was only Professor Vector, which probably meant that she wasn’t in trouble. Probably. Unless she was being kicked out of class! No, why would she? Her homework wasn’t late, and she had been acing all of her exams. Was that it? Did Professor Vector think she was cheating?! 

“Are you alright, Hermione?” Professor Vector asked, snapping Hermione out of her impending panic attack. 

“Of course,” Hermione said, regaining her composure. “I’m not the one that got attacked two days ago.” 

“There is a confirmed monster at Hogwarts known to target Muggle-borns,” Professor Vector said. 

“And my best friend beat said monster within an inch of its life.” 

“Fair enough,” Professor Vector said. “Have you told your parents yet?” 

Hermione looked down at her shoes. “No.” 

“I’m sure you’ve already thought of this, Hermione, but you should tell them sooner rather than later. Better they hear it from you rather than someone else.” 

Hermione nodded. “I know, I just… I don’t know how to tell them in a way that _won’t_ send me back home.” 

“Tell them what you’ve just told me. Tell them that Ms. Peta-Lorrum nearly killed the beast a few days ago. Tell them it fled from her in terror, and remind them that she hardly ever leaves your side.” Professor Vector looked up towards the empty entrance. “Isn’t that right, Ms. Peta-Lorrum?!” 

“Right!” came the reply. Shortly after that, Rose stuck her head into the class. A wide grin was plastered over her face. “Salutations, Professor!” 

“Don’t worry about it, Hermione,” Professor Vector said. “I know you’ll think of some way to convince your parents to let you remain here.” 

“Thank you, Professor,” Hermione said. 

“Before you go, one more thing,” Professor Vector said. “What exactly does that hair clip do?” 

Hermione froze. “I’m… I’m sorry?” 

“It does little to hold your hair in place, but you never remove it,” the Arithmancy Professor said. “So I assume that it holds some other purpose, especially considering that you mentioned once that Ms. Peta-Lorrum gave it to you.” 

Hermione couldn’t speak. It was happening. The moment she had been dreading for months had finally come. Professor Vector knew about the hair clip. It was all over. She was going to kick Hermione out of Arithmancy, maybe out of Hogwarts. There was nothing Hermione could do about it. She had been caught cheating. 

“I… I… It’s nothing!” 

“And going by the look on your face, you’re worried that you’re not supposed to have it,” Professor Vector continued. “Considering you’ve got a seashell that lets you communicate with Rose and a bracelet that lets you instantly read any book, I would guess that the next most important thing to you is your intelligence, so I’m going to guess that the hair clip makes you more clever. Am I right?” 

Tears welled up in Hermione’s eyes. It was all over. Professor Vector knew. Why had she waited until _after_ asking Hermione if she was alright? Was it to lull her into a false sense of security? Persuade Hermione to lower her defences before striking? 

“I’m sorry,” Hermione sobbed. “I didn’t mean to cheat, but I hate taking it off! My mind just feels murky, and I can’t think, and–” 

“Hermione,” Professor Vector said. “Cheating is looking up the answers during a test, or copying someone else’s work and taking credit for it. You aren’t cheating.” 

Hermione blinked. “I’m not?” she asked, her head still whirling. “But I’m using magic to make myself smarter.” 

“Professor Babbling once told me about a rune that could do that,” Professor Vector said. “It’s very complicated, so I don’t think even _she_ has one, but I do believe Professor Dumbledore does.” Professor Vector smiled. “It sounds an awful lot like that hair clip of yours.” 

Hermione stopped crying. “Professor… Dumbledore uses magic to make himself more clever?” 

“Only _temporary_ spells are against the rules, Hermione,” Professor Vector said. Looking up, she shouted, “Ms. Peta-Lorrum! Does that wear off?” 

“Nope!” Rose exclaimed. 

“So I can use the hair clip?” Hermione asked. 

“Of course,” Professor Vector replied. “Cheer up, Hermione. You’ve already proven yourself to me time and time again. I have faith that you wouldn’t accept help from Ms. Peta-Lorrum if you truly thought you would be cheating by doing so.” 

“Thank you, Professor,” Hermione said, a smile returning to her face. “Thank you so much.” 

“You’re welcome, Hermione,” Septima replied. “I’m sorry for upsetting you like that. I’ll see you tomorrow. Stay safe.” 

“I’ll be alright,” Hermione said. 

“Before you go, I’d like to speak with Ms. Peta-Lorrum for a moment,” Septima said. 

“Okay!” Peta-Lorrum exclaimed, skipping happily over to the Arithmancy Professor. “What do you need, Professor?” 

“Ms. Peta-Lorrum, I’ll be honest,” Septima said after Hermione and her other friend had given them some space. “I don’t much care for you.” 

“That’s alright,” Peta-Lorrum said. “Carolina says I’m an acquired taste.” She tilted her head. “Still not sure where she learned the word ‘acquired’.” 

_Does_ anything _upset this girl?_ Septima thought. Peta-Lorrum _was_ trying to become friends with Severus, so probably not. “My feelings towards you aren’t the problem; Hermione looks to you for protection. So, I will say this once: Don’t let any harm befall that girl.” 

“Professor Vector,” Peta-Lorrum said. “You don’t know me, and probably won’t believe a word I say, but let me tell you something about myself. At my old school, I was kicked, punched, spat on, and suffocated. I couldn’t fend for myself, but my sister could. She stood up for me and kept me safe. All of those bad things stopped after my big sister started shadowing me.” She grinned. “When it comes to my friends, I follow Ali’s example, so I’m going to say _this_ once: The only way that basilisk, or anything else for that matter, is getting to Hermione is _over my dead body_.” She paused, then added, “which, by the way, is _a lot_ harder than it sounds.” 

Septima agreed that she didn’t entirely believe the girl, but she did believe that she’d die protecting Hermione. For the first time Septima had ever seen, her face was serious. 

Septima nodded. “Thank you, Ms. Peta-Lorrum.” A thought struck Septima, and she added, “Would you please tell her parents that?” 

Rose beamed. “Will do!” 

Rose skipped out of the room, meeting Sally-Anne and Hermione at the door. 

“What did Professor Vector want to talk to you about?” Hermione asked nervously. 

“She wanted to make sure that I was taking good care of my friends!” Rose exclaimed. 

“That’s nice,” Sally-Anne said. 

“Off to plant class!” exclaimed Rose. 

“It’s called ‘Herbology’, Rose,” Hermione said. 

“That’s what I said!” Rose exclaimed. 

* * *

_Dear Mum and Dad_ , 

_I’m sorry this letter is late, but there has been a lot happening here at Hogwarts. I’m alright, but there was an attack at the school. We found out that inside the Chamber of Secrets is a monster called a ‘basilisk’. It was thanks to Rose that we now know that, as she saw it on Saturday. It has been using the pipes in the school to move around within the castle for about a month, judging from what Rose and Harry say, both of whom have been hearing the Basilisk all this time. That’s another long story._

_All of this came after the attack. Before the attack, a Bludger went rogue and tried to kill Harry during the first Quidditch match. We don’t know how it happened, but Rose destroyed the ball before it could harm Harry. After that, we had yet another encounter with Malfoy, which was ended by Rose chasing him away. He really got under Harry’s skin, and Harry lashed out at Sally-Anne. She ran off crying, leaving Rose to handle Harry. Don’t worry, Rose didn’t hurt anyone. She told us that Harry had been hearing voices, which is why he’s been so quiet lately._

_Sally-Anne ran off crying to the girl’s bathroom, which was an issue on its own, since we’re not supposed to be alone. She actually made friends with Moaning Myrtle, the ghost that’s always crying in the first-floor girl’s bathroom. It was during this time that the attack happened, as the victim was Sally-Anne. Fortunately, she was only petrified, although it could’ve been far worse. A basilisk normally kills when a person looks into its eyes. Fortunately, if you only see its reflection, then it petrifies you._

_Shortly after, Rose found Sally-Anne in the bathroom, along with the Basilisk. As luck would have it, Rose is immune to the Basilisk’s stare. Then, with her bare hands, she beat it within an inch of its life. A lot of the students that have heard about it think she’s lying, but we know she’s not. I’ve seen what she can do, and I know how good Rose is. She brought Sally-Anne to the Hospital Wing, gathered some of the professors, including Professor Dumbledore, and we worked out what was going on based on what Rose told us (I helped!)._

_My last piece of news is that Rose can restore the victims of the Basilisk to health, assuming that they’ve only been stunned. She also mentioned something else to me last year. Rose said that she can restore someone to life, so long as they’ve only been dead for six seconds. I know it doesn’t seem like much, but it’s why I’m not scared. I know Rose can fix me if I’m petrified, and even bring a person back to life if they’ve died (again, six seconds). A year ago I would’ve thought Rose was lying, but I’ve seen her do the impossible before._

_I know you’re worried about me, but I promise you that I’ll be alright. Once again, Rose has written to you to reassure you that I’m fine. I really am fine. Please don’t worry. My friends will take good care of me._

_Lots of Love_ , 

_Hermione_

Dan and Emma put down the letter, then picked up the second one. 

_Dear Mr. and Mrs. Hermione’s Mum and Dad_ , 

_I’ve got Hermione’s back. She said she covered the basics, so I’ll just tell you what I told Professor Vector: The only way that basilisk, or anything else for that matter, is getting to Hermione is over my dead body. Which is a lot harder than it sounds._

_I hope you’re doing well! Say “hi” to Ana for me!_

_Sincerely_ , 

_Rose_

“Why does this have to happen at Hogwarts?” Emma asked. “Why not at one of the _other_ wizarding schools?” 

“Doesn’t matter, we’re getting her out of there,” Dan said. 

“Hold on. If what she and Rose are saying is true, then she should be fine.” 

“What?!” Dan shouted, picking up the letter. “‘A basilisk normally kills when a person looks into its eyes’!” 

“And Rose says she can handle it,” Emma replied. “She’s my little girl too. I’m terrified, but… Ana.” She indicated their duct tape helper. “If Rose says she can do it, I believe her.” 

Dan glared at Ana, who stared back at him with its expressionless face. 

“She’s a child,” Dan said, turning back to his wife. “They _both_ are.” 

“I think we both know that’s not entirely true,” Emma said. “Hermione may not see it, but Rose isn’t quite what she seems. She’ll keep Hermione safe.” 

Dan took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled, still thinking. He didn’t want to leave his little girl in danger like that, but on the other hand, Rose had handled the monster once before, and could do it again. Hermione _loved_ it at Hogwarts, and he hated to make her leave. 

“Alright,” he said finally. “She can stay.” 

Ana nodded its approval, then continued with its chores. 


	16. It's Time to Duel!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which duels happen!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** I own neither Harry Potter, nor Yu-Gi-Oh!. The former is owned by J.K. Rowling, and the latter is owned by… someone who is not me.

School was surprisingly normal with a monster roaming around the castle. It took Hermione a few days to settle down after receiving her parents’ reply to her letter. After seeing the letter that absolved her and allowed her to stay at school, and after Rose implied that she was brainwashing Hermione’s parents, Hermione began to relax. If not for Lockhart starting a dueling club on Saturday, Hermione might have forgotten all about the Basilisk in the pipes. 

“Welcome, everyone,” Gilderoy said after everyone had gathered in the Great Hall Saturday afternoon. “Professor Dumbledore has given me permission to hold this little dueling club so that we may all be prepared for when the Basilisk comes around. Now, I know what you’re all thinking: ‘How could we possibly be as good as you, Professor Lockhart?’ Don’t worry, I’ll only be giving a demonstration, none of you will have to duel _me_.” He chuckled. 

A hand went up in the audience. Despite the hand being covered in a large glove, indicating that it belonged to the absolute _last_ person that Gilderoy wanted to ask questions at his exhibition, he maintained his composure. It would be easy enough to keep the spotlight off her until the right moment. 

“Yes, Ms. Peta-Lorrum?” he asked. 

“Why isn’t Professor Flitwick teaching this?” she asked. “He’s a retired dueling champion. It seems like he’d be more qualified to teach a _dueling_ club.” 

“A good question, Ms. Peta-Lorrum!” Gilderoy said. “The problem that we now face is that a basilisk is roaming free within the once safe confines of the castle. I have something that all of your other professors lack, making me the most qualified to be teaching this: Real world experience. Yes, that’s right, I’ve taken on more monsters than any of you could shake a wand at, and I’m sure there will be plenty more to come.” 

Up went the gloved hand. 

“Yes?” 

“How come you haven’t added the Basilisk to that list yet?” 

Was she _trying_ to get on his nerves? Fortunately, Gilderoy was no stranger to hecklers. 

“Well, my dear, I don’t know where it is! Otherwise, I’d have–” 

“Why don’t you look for it?” the girl asked. 

“It’s not that simple, you see–” 

“Have you been looking for it?” she asked. “There have been two incidents. You could start by looking near the sites of both of them!” She grinned cheerfully, looking for all the world like she thought she was helping him. 

Gilderoy saw right through the girl’s sweet and innocent routine. He knew she was rotten underneath it all. It was just a matter of drawing the rotten inside to the outside for everyone to see. Not even her friends would talk to her after he was through with her. 

“Ms. Peta-Lorrum, as you seem so well-informed, why don’t you help me with my demonstration?” Lockhart said. 

She whispered something to Granger, then hopped up onto the platform across from Gilderoy. 

“First we both draw our wands,” Gilderoy said, drawing his wand from his robes. 

He looked up and saw that Peta-Lorrum had her wand in her hand. 

“Very good,” he said. “Next we bow.” 

He bowed graciously, flashing a toothy grin as he did. To his delight, he heard a few giggles from the audience. 

As he bowed, he saw that the crimson-haired girl curtsied. 

“Alright, close enough,” he said. “And now, we duel.” 

He watched his opponent carefully, waiting for her to make the first move. Whatever she did, he was ready for it. Gilderoy had prepared specifically for this duel, and there was no way that she could defeat him. He was ready with counterspells and hexes, confident that there was nothing that girl could do that would surprise him. 

After all, he was no stranger to the efficient use of rumors to further one’s reputation. Gilderoy knew that this girl was all talk, despite her trick with the fire a few weeks ago. She was an open book to him, and he knew he’d have no trouble taking her down. 

Gilderoy raised his wand, hoping to trick the girl into attacking early. To his fortune, the girl waved her wand, and Gilderoy readied himself for whatever it was she was doing. 

As he had anticipated, he began to rise into the air. He had learned that this was her favorite trick, and knew a trick to counter it. Gilderoy couldn’t find the spell she was using, but it involved making everything in the affected area float up to the ceiling. 

Gilderoy waved his wand and pointed it at his shoes. Instantly, they became far heavier than they had been. But instead of falling back down to the ground, he flew up _faster_. He realized that she wasn’t propelling him upward, but had somehow reversed the way he fell. 

“Very good, Ms. Peta-Lorrum,” he said, regaining his composure. He pointed his wand at his feet, which were now suspended at the boundary of her spell. 

“ _Flydende skive,_ ” he cast, causing a disc to appear beneath his feet. He stood up, adjusting himself to his new world view. “See class, it always pays to be prepared for anything your opponent can do.” 

“Well said, Lockhart,” Rose replied as she snapped her fingers. 

Gilderoy realized what she was doing the moment he felt himself falling. Now, his shoes were four times heavier than they were supposed to be, which meant he was going to hit the ground harder when he landed. Quickly, he waved his wand and shouted “ _Arresto Momentum!_ ” 

Thankful that he had finally got the spell right, he gently touched the ground below. Not wasting a second, he aimed his wand at his opponent. 

“ _Expelliarmus!_ ” 

Gilderoy grinned when the girl’s wand vanished from her hand, but his grin faded when it reappeared a few seconds later. How had she done that? It wasn’t long before Gilderoy realized that her wand hadn’t just reappeared in her hand, it had sprung out of something. She had a backup! Of course! She kept a backup wand hidden in her sleeve. It was clever, but not clever enough. 

Gilderoy raised his wand and fired another spell at the girl. “ _Flipendo!_ ” 

The girl was thrown back, tumbling through the air. She tucked and rolled in midair, then reached out her hand and steadied herself. Bringing her legs down along her body, she placed both feet on the ground, then stood up and grinned at him. 

“You’ve been holding back on us, Lockhart,” she said. “That’s five spells you’ve done without hurting yourself! Very good!” 

Gilderoy readied himself for another bizarre spell, but none came. What was she doing? It was as if she were waiting for something. He threw another _flipendo_ at her, but she simply dodged aside it. 

She twirled around his next few attempts, as if she were dancing. After nearly a minute, Gilderoy realized that she was humming a tune as she dodged aside his attacks. She _was_ dancing! The crimson-haired girl’s eyes were closed as if she were off in her own little world! She didn’t even consider him a threat! 

After a moment, the girl opened her eyes. Gilderoy wasn’t sure what was happening, but he didn’t like the look the girl was giving him. He also didn’t have the faintest idea why she just patted herself on her head. 

Peta-Lorrum raised her wand, then said, “ _Tar elom dekan!_ ” 

Before everyone’s eyes, Lockhart began to shrink. His clothing melded into his body as he shrank. Lockhart’s neck expanded, and his hair shriveled away. His skin became wrinkled as his entire body turned pink. His jaw protruded an inch from his face, and his front teeth expanded. Lockhart’s arms and legs disappeared into his body, and he dropped his wand. As it clattered to the floor, it was joined by a small, pink rodent. 

Gilderoy looked around him, panicking as he realized what had happened. He had been turned into a _rodent_. What was he supposed to do now? He hadn’t planned on _this_! 

Rose approached the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor, looking down at him with just a hint of arrogance. 

By that time, their duel had attracted the attention of most of the students and staff. 

When Severus had heard that Lockhart would be pretending to duel, he had ensured that he would have time to watch. When he had arrived and saw that Lockhart’s opponent was none other than Peta-Lorrum, he had nearly laughed. Not only did that guarantee that Lockhart would be put in his place, but it gave him a chance to see Peta-Lorrum harass someone _other_ than him for a change. 

“Well,” Rose said, approaching the rat that had once been their teacher. “I guess that means I win.” Waving _Serendipity_ over Lockhart, she restored the teacher back to his original state. Rose smiled at her teacher as if she were a predator eyeing its meal, then curtsied. 

As Gilderoy watched the girl hop off the stage, he decided that as soon as possible, he was _gone_. He’d work through the rest of the year if necessary, but once summer came, that was it. Gilderoy was ready to leave Hogwarts and never look back. It wasn’t worth it. 

“Yes, very…” Gilderoy cleared his throat. “Well done, Ms. Peta-Lorrum.” 

“That was brilliant,” Hermione whispered as her friend rejoined their group. 

“ _I_ was surprised that _Lockhart_ could do all of that,” Ron said. 

“He practiced,” Rose said. “He was planning that, but I don’t think it went according to plan.” 

“He probably didn’t plan on getting turned into a weasel,” Ginny scoffed. 

“Rat,” Hermione corrected her. “Naked mole rat, to be precise.” 

“How do you know that?” Ginny asked. 

“Cos she suggested it!” Rose exclaimed, putting her arm around Hermione. “Brain’s so clever!” 

“‘Brain’?” Hermione asked. 

“I give all my friends nicknames!” Rose exclaimed. “Brain, Scarface, Princess, Moon, Cohort… I haven’t got one for you yet, Ginny. I’ll work on one!” 

“Thanks, Rose,” Ginny said. 

“Why?” Ron asked. 

“Well, Brain is better than any other nickname I’ve ever had,” Hermione said. “I’ll take it.” 

“That’s the spirit!” Rose exclaimed. 

“Alright everyone, settle down,” Lockhart said, regaining control of the room. “Now, why don’t we have a demonstration from some of your classmates?” He flashed another smile at his audience. “Who would like to volunteer?” 

Many hands went up within seconds, but Gilderoy saw one hand go up faster than the rest. 

“Mr. Malfoy, I believe I saw your hand first,” Lockhart said. “Come on up here.” 

Draco smirked as he walked up to the platform. Like Lockhart, he had been planning on this, although he was thrilled that he wouldn’t have to wait long. Unlike Lockhart, he wasn’t going after Peta-Lorrum. Draco had learned many times over that she was out of his league, but he had learned that there were better ways of getting under her skin than with force. 

“And who would you like as your opponent?” Lockhart asked the Slytherin. 

Still smirking, Draco looked towards Peta-Lorrum and her friends. Peta-Lorrum wasn’t his target. Instead, he was going after the weakest member of her group. He had it all planned out. 

“Her,” Draco said, pointing at none other than Sally-Anne Perks. 

Rose, Hermione, Ginny, Harry, and Ron all looked at Sally-Anne. 

“Alright, Ms. Perks,” Lockhart said. “Why don’t you come up here?” 

“Go get ’em, Princess,” Rose whispered. “You’ve got this.” 

“I can’t,” Sally-Anne said. 

“Come on up, Ms. Perks!” Lockhart said. 

As Sally-Anne hesitantly began her journey to the steps of the platform, Rose expended her one use of _sending_ for that day. 

<Professor Babbling, she needs you. _Now._ >

Bathsheda wasn’t immediately sure _why_ she suddenly heard Rose Peta-Lorrum’s voice in her head, but when she saw the crimson-haired girl staring at her, she knew at once what she needed to do. The Ancient Runes Professor quickly made her way to intercept the dirty-blonde Gryffindor on her way up to the dueling platform. 

“Sally-Anne,” she whispered. “Make sure your hands are completely visible. The rune doesn’t work as well otherwise.” 

“Professor?” Sally-Anne said. “I thought you said–” 

“Don’t worry about what I said before, worry about what I’m saying _now_.” Bathsheda glanced over at the smug Slytherin intending to tear down her pupil. The same Slytherin that had left Sally-Anne and her friend for dead over a year ago. The same Slytherin that had tormented dozens of students. “Show that pompous git who’s boss.” 

Sally-Anne smiled at the Ancient Runes Professor, then said, “I’ll make you proud.” 

Sally-Anne took a deep breath and walked up on top of the platform. 

“Just as Ms. Peta-Lorrum and I did,” Lockhart said. “First, both of you draw your wands.” 

Draco drew his wand from his robes as his opponent mirrored him. 

“Then bow.” 

Still smirking, an expression he had practiced for hours in front of the mirror for no other reason than he felt like it, Draco bowed to his prey. 

“Then duel!” 

This would be easy. Draco had considered going after Peta-Lorrum, but after that display, he wasn’t going anywhere _near_ her. But Perks wouldn’t fight back. She was too scared, and probably still shaken up after her incident last week. Granger could become a problem, although a few quick insults usually tore _her_ down to size, and even though Weasley wasn’t good at magic, he was stubborn. Draco had actually considered Potter until he remembered that Perks had just been attacked a week ago. Strike while your opponent’s weak, his father had said. It was perfect. 

Draco raised his wand. “ _Locomotor Mortis!_ ” 

He wasn’t sure if a leg locker curse was the right way to open the duel, but he didn’t care. It would get the job done, and let him mess with his opponent for a while afterwards while she was helpless. 

An orange bolt lanced out of his wand towards his opponent. As he had been informed by Professor Snape, most magic manifested itself as a bolt of some color at first. It was something about concentration and control, and one could remove the bolt with more practice, similar to the way that one could remove the incantations as well. Until then, he had to settle for people knowing exactly the kind of curse he had just used. Not that it mattered. Draco knew that he was going to win either way. 

To Draco’s surprise, Perks lowered her wand and raised her left hand. She flexed her fingers, revealing what looked to be a tattoo of several interlocking circles. Wait, was that some sort of rune? What was it doing on her hand? 

“ _Strada!_ ” 

A translucent disc appeared between Perks and Draco. His curse shot right into it, hitting the disc like a rock landing in a pond. Ripples were sent through the disc as it took the full force of the curse, leaving his opponent unharmed. 

Draco gaped at his opponent. What _was_ that? The mudblood had to be cheating somehow! This _reeked_ of Peta-Lorrum! 

“What?!” Draco shouted. He turned to Professor Snape. “She’s cheating! She didn’t even use her wand!” 

Severus didn’t know what it was any more than Draco did, but he knew who was responsible. 

Bathsheda. 

She had taken the girl under her wing. This was all Septima’s fault. Those two were _always_ trying to top one another. Septima had taken on a prodigy, so Bathsheda had to find one of her own. 

That answered that, but where had Perks learned to use that rune like that? A _normal_ second-year’s reflexes shouldn’t be _nearly_ that refined. Okay, _his_ might have been at that age, but his had to be. Perks ran with Peta-Lorrum; she shouldn’t _need_ reflexes like that. 

Severus realized it was a stupid question the moment he thought it. 

_She runs with Peta-Lorrum._

Severus glared at Peta-Lorrum, who smiled back at him once she realized he was glaring at her. 

_What did you do?_

* * *

**Monday**

After leaving Myrtle’s bathroom Monday morning, Sally-Anne and Rose returned to the Room of Requirement. Sally-Anne looked around the room, still amazed that a door had appeared before her eyes. Sure, she was in a school where they learned to use magic, but it was still amazing to see. There was a cobblestone floor around them, matched by the walls and ceiling. Mounted across one wall were what appeared to be several crossbows, and two other walls were lined with targets. 

“Alright, Sally-Anne, let’s see what you can do,” Rose said, impressed by what the requirement “I need a place to train her” had yielded. 

Sally-Anne nodded, then closed her eyes. She took a few deep breaths to ready herself, concentrating on everything that she had learned. Sally-Anne felt the flow of magic within herself, channeling it through her body to her hand with each breath. She closed her left hand, then extended it out in front of her body. Taking another deep breath, she opened her eyes, then flexed her fingers as she shouted the incantation to activate it. 

“ _Strada!_ ” 

A shimmering disc appeared in front of her, glowing a faint shade of blue. 

“Hmm,” Rose said as she inspected the disc. “How long can you do that?” 

“Not very,” Sally-Anne replied through a strained voice. She closed her hand and the disc vanished from sight. Sally-Anne panted a little, weakened by the strain the disc put on her. 

“I need a number,” Rose said. “How many rounds?” 

“Probably just one,” Sally-Anne said. “A round is eight seconds, right?” 

“Six.” 

“Then yeah, probably just one.” 

“That’s not helpful,” Rose said. “Well, maybe if you can react fast enough to block an attack, but you’d probably want to throw it up as soon as your opponent attacks.” 

“Alright,” Sally-Anne said. “Why don’t we work on that?” 

“Okay,” Rose said. “Try to block my attacks.” 

“Wait, what?” 

Rose moved to punch Sally-Anne, who screamed and fell to the ground to get out of the way. 

“Alright,” Rose said. “At least now I know where we need to start. Stand up, and let’s try that again.” 

“It’s hard when I’m not ready,” Sally-Anne said, climbing to her feet. 

“You think an enemy is going to give you warning?” Rose asked. 

“Well–” 

While she was thinking, Sally-Anne was knocked to the ground by Rose. 

“Ow!” Sally-Anne exclaimed. 

“Yup,” Rose said. “It’s gonna be awhile.” 

* * *

“She’s not cheating, Malfoy,” Professor Babbling said. “It’s called a ‘Shield Rune’. It’s a form of magic that uses a rune instead of a wand.” 

Draco looked from Babbling to Snape. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but Snape wasn’t calling the girl out on it, so it wasn’t a trick. What was a “Shield Rune”? It didn’t matter! One way or another, Draco would win this duel! He was a Malfoy! The Malfoys had several rules, but one of the most important was “Win or don’t come home.” 

“ _Tarantallegra!_ ” 

Once again, Perks threw the disc between herself and Draco. Just like before, the disc took the full force of the hex, leaving the girl untouched. 

Draco was beginning to fume with anger. He threw curses and hexes at the girl, but nothing made it through. How was she so fast?! 

Draco decided he needed to change tactics in order to beat this girl. She could block his spells, but what if she were threatened by something _other_ than a spell? 

“ _Serpensortia!_ ” 

Instead of another curse or hex, a snake sprang out of Draco’s wand. Professor Snape showed him the spell a few weeks ago, just before the Chamber of Secrets nonsense had started. It summoned a snake, which Draco figured would be useful. In this case, he was right. 

Sally-Anne was ready for almost any spell Draco could throw at her. Unfortunately, summoning a snake was _not_ on that list. She jumped back, startled and afraid. 

The snake went right after Sally-Anne as she tried to back away from it. It flicked its tongue, hissing at the Gryffindor. It stopped hissing and lunged at the poor girl. 

Sally-Anne just barely got a shield between her and the snake in time, but the snake recoiled and moved around her. It wasn’t a large platform, but it slithered onto the floor, then struck again. Sally-Anne fell to the ground to get away from the snake. It sailed over her, landing near the audience, then attacked her again. 

Sally-Anne couldn’t think. All she saw was a snake coming after her, and her instincts kicked in. She threw up her hands to block it, and it latched onto her right arm, sinking its teeth into her. 

Sally-Anne managed to pull the snake off her, tearing some of her skin off with it. As she threw away the snake, she began to feel dizzy. The dirty-blonde girl fell to her knees as she tried to concentrate. All she could hear was the snake hissing. 

Hermione and Ginny gasped as their friend fell to the floor. Minerva brought a hand to her mouth, and Bathsheda had to stop herself from trying to intervene. 

“We’ve got to do something,” Harry whispered. He didn’t know what he was going to do, but that was his friend up there. He started for the platform, but a hand reached out and grabbed him before he could get far. 

“She’s got to do this on her own, Scarface,” Rose said. “Believe in her.” 

Harry looked reluctantly at Rose, then at Sally-Anne, and finally at Malfoy. 

“She could be dying up there,” Harry protested. 

“She _is_ dying,” Rose said. “That’s snake’s venom, and by the looks of her, she failed her Fort save against it. She’s already getting pale, so she’s probably only got a few rounds left before she dies.” 

Her friends all stared at her in horror. 

“Don’t go help her,” Rose said. “We can do that after she beats Butterhead.” 

Harry continued to stare at Rose, then turned back to Sally-Anne. 

“Pathetic little girl,” Malfoy hissed. “Even with all your tricks, you’re still helpless without the Freak around to save you.” 

* * *

**Friday**

“I can’t do it,” Sally-Anne said after trying and failing to stop yet another barrage of attacks from Rose. “I’m not fast enough.” 

She sunk to the ground. It was hopeless. She just wasn’t as fast as Rose was, and there was no point in tiring herself out trying to be. 

“Alright,” Rose said, walking over to her friend. With as much warning as she ever gave, Rose punched Sally-Anne in the arm. 

“Ow!” the dirty-blonde girl exclaimed. “What was that for?!” 

Rose remained silent, but instead punched her again. 

“Stop it!” 

“Why?” 

“We’re finished!” Sally-Anne exclaimed. “I give up! I’m not as fast as you!” 

“Good,” Rose said, punching her again. “If you’ve given up, then it’ll be even easier to punch you!” 

“It hurts!” 

“So what?” 

Rose punched Sally-Anne harder, and the other girl tried to crawl backwards, falling to the ground as she did. 

“People aren’t going to stop just because you asked nicely, Perks,” Rose said, punching Sally-Anne again. “They don’t stop just because it hurts. If you want them to stop, you’ve got to _make_ them stop. Otherwise, they’ll just walk all over you.” 

“But I can’t!” 

“You think anyone out there _cares_ if you’re in pain?! You think they care if you’re upset?! Guess what? _They don’t!_ ” Rose shouted. “The world hasn’t got mercy! The world hasn’t got pity! It’s time you wake up and realize that the world is cruel!” Rose’s voice had risen to a scream. It echoed around the Room of Requirement as Sally-Anne attempted to crawl backwards. “Real life isn’t one of your fairy tales, Sally-Anne! Everything you love can be ripped away from you in an instant! _And there won’t be anything you can do about it!_ ” 

Sally-Anne stared at Rose as she tried to back away. 

“Rose, I–” 

“If you want a better world, you’ve got to make it yourself! Give it your all! If you can’t open a door, break it down! Punch it until your hand breaks! When your goal’s in sight, run towards it until you collapse from exhaustion, then crawl the rest of the way! If you don’t give it everything you’ve got, the world will bleed you dry! You want to help people?! You want to keep Harry safe?! Then _you’ve_ got to do it, Sally-Anne, because _no one else will!_ ” 

Sally-Anne didn’t know how to react, so she just looked on with horror. 

Rose glared back at her, but she looked more sad than angry. 

Rose punched Sally-Anne again, but softly. “Life isn’t fair, Sally-Anne,” she said after a few minutes of silence. “After the way your boyfriend yelled at you last week, you know that.” 

“What?” Sally-Anne asked. “We’re not–” 

“Don’t care,” Rose said. “You’ve been attacked by a troll and a basilisk, nearly within a year of one another. You’ve already begun to see that life isn’t fair, but what you don’t realize is that you’ve got no clue just how horrible it is out there.” 

“I haven’t got a crush on Harry,” Sally-Anne blurted out. 

“Why would you want to crush Harry?” 

Sally-Anne blushed. “I mean… It’s not like… Erm…” 

“I’m glad you’re going after Harry, Princess,” Rose said. “It makes for much less drama than you looking at someone like Butterhead. Remember, Harry stopped an evil wizard with a cult following. That means that said following will be coming after him. Voldie won’t stop until one of them’s dead. So, if you want Scarface to stay safe, you’ll have to do it yourself.” Rose stood up, then offered Sally-Anne her hand. “Like I said, no one else will.” 

Sally-Anne looked up at her friend, and accepted the hand offered to her. The dirty-blonde girl allowed herself to be pulled to her feet. “I’m ready,” she said. 

Rose grinned. “I know.” 

As Sally-Anne stood up, Rose said, “Remember, I won’t always be here. You’ve got to learn to stand on your own two feet.” Rose took a few steps back. “You don’t need to be as fast as me to stop my attacks. You keep trying to do it the hard way.” 

“Hard way?” Sally-Anne echoed. 

“You’re looking for _visual_ cues,” Rose replied. “It’s a lot harder for someone to control _audible_ cues. Listen for my cloak ruffling and throw up a defence. Now, let’s try it again.” 

* * *

Rose had put Sally-Anne through misery and pain in order to force her to understand how horrible the real world would be. Sally-Anne understood now that she couldn’t always depend on Rose to be there to help her. She stood on her own two feet, determination burning in her eyes. 

“I’m not helpless anymore,” she said. 

Sally-Anne closed her eyes and listened for the snake. Sally-Anne realized that she didn’t need to be as fast as the snake, nor did she need to know where it was, but it stopped hissing when it was about to attack. Sally-Anne hoped it did that every time it attacked, and not just the first time. 

She heard the steady hissing nearby, then it suddenly stopped. 

Sally-Anne opened her eyes and dropped to the floor. Flexing the fingers on her left hand, she slammed her hand into the ground. 

“ _Dostradi!_ ” 

It was if everything were in slow motion. As the snake lunged at her from her right, purple sparks shot out of the ground around her. The sparks quickly formed a circle, swirling around her as they moved upward. A purple dome, crackling with electricity appeared around the girl as the snake lunged towards her. 

Nearly the entire audience gasped as the dome formed around the second-year. 

The serpent was caught by the dome, sending current surging through the creature’s body. It spasmed violently as it was electrocuted, hissing wildly in pain. The snake was launched away from the Gryffindor, hitting the ground hard. It spasmed once more, then finally collapsed to the ground, dead. 

Sally-Anne stood up and faced Malfoy. 

“Filthy mudblood!” Malfoy spat. He fired an ankle-biting curse at her, but she blocked it like the rest. 

“You know what your problem is, Butterhead?” Sally-Anne panted. She didn’t like this tactic, but she needed him annoyed. Anger made people make mistakes, and she needed him to make a mistake. “You think you’re going to win just because you believe that you’re better than me. Not because you _are_ better than me, but because you _think_ you’re better than me.” 

“What’s she doing?” Hermione whispered to Rose, seeing the grin on Rose’s face. 

“Winning,” Rose whispered back. “She’s making him angry so he’ll make a mistake.” 

“Why?” 

“Sally-Anne doesn’t actually know any spells to use against him,” Rose said. “But she’s counting on him trying something against her she can use. She finally remembered the spell.” 

“What spell?” Hermione asked. 

* * *

**Saturday Morning**

“Defence is good,” Rose said. “But it won’t win you any fights. Sure, you might wear down your opponent, but you won’t always have the time to wait for them to wear themselves down trying to kill you. What else have you got other than that _kethé_ dome thing and the boring disc?” 

“Professor Babbling has only shown me those two,” Sally-Anne said. “Wait! There’s one more! It reflects force back at my opponent!” 

“Show me,” Rose said. She took a step back. “I’m going to come at you slowly with this one, since we’re not testing how quickly you can–” 

“Don’t hold back,” Sally-Anne said, standing tall. “I can take it.” 

Rose smiled. “You’re gonna go far, Princess. Get ready.” 

* * *

“ _Petrificus Totalis!_ ” 

Sally-Anne and Rose both smiled. 

_Perfect._

She raised her left hand one final time. 

“ _Rufta!_ ” 

A shimmering disc appeared, just like before, but this time, it didn’t absorb the spell. It sent it flying back at Malfoy. 

The purple bolt ricocheted off the disc and lanced through the air towards the helpless Slytherin. It struck him square in the chest before he had a chance to react, causing his limbs to slam into his sides. 

There were several cheers from the members of the audience who had been subjected to that spell by Malfoy. Draco watched helplessly as the floor rushed up to meet him. He fell flat on his face, unable to catch himself. 

Lockhart stared at the two students on the platform. 

Severus stared at the frozen form of his student in silence. 

Hermione, Harry, and Ron stared at Sally-Anne in silence. 

A smile slowly formed on Bathsheda’s face. 

Rose grinned. 

“Woohoo!” she shouted. “You go girl!” 

Rose applauded, followed shortly by Hermione, Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Luna. Professor Babbling joined in with them, then Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore, then the rest of Gryffindor House, and finally everyone else watching. Even Professor Snape gave a small clap. 

Students stormed the platform, but Rose reached her friend first. Rose caught her just as the other Gryffindor keeled over. 

“I’ve got you, Sally-Anne,” she said. Rose waved _Serendipity_ over the girl, and Sally-Anne felt the haze lift. 

“I’m so proud of you,” Professor Babbling said. 

“Thanks,” Sally-Anne said. “Thank you both for your help.” 

“That was _amazing_!” Ron said as her friends reached the platform. 

“Alright, everyone, alright,” Lockhart said, although no one heard him. “Let’s settle down!” 

Severus walked over to Malfoy and released him from the effects of the boy’s own curse. 

“Attention!” 

Everyone turned to face Professor Dumbledore, from whom the loud, booming voice had originated. 

“As it is almost time for dinner, I believe we should all clear out of the Great Hall,” Professor Dumbledore said calmly. “I apologize that more of you didn’t get to practice, however, I believe Mses. Perks and Peta-Lorrum, along with Mr. Malfoy, have all given us excellent demonstrations of the capabilities of a student when one applies themselves.” He smiled warmly at all three of them. “Fifteen points to each of you. Well done.” 

“But I lost,” Draco said. 

“Winning isn’t everything, Draco,” Severus said to the boy as the other students began to clear off. 

“That’s not what Father says,” the Slytherin replied. 

“It may be hard to believe, but your father isn’t always right,” Severus muttered under his breath, stepping down from the platform. 

Draco’s face twisted into a snarl, then he raised his wand at Perks. 

“ _Petrificus_ –” 

Professor Snape grabbed his wrist before he could complete his hex. 

“Don’t,” the Potions Master said. “They won this round.” Seeing his pupil’s look of disgust, he added, “Accept it. Learn from it. Come back stronger.” 

As Severus watched the boy walk off, he muttered, “One day you’ll learn.” 


	17. Sharing and Caring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which feelings are shared, and characters are developed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** Sharing is caring, and since I care, I will share with you that J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter.

At Hogwarts, whenever anything exciting happened, people simply _had_ to obsess over it. There was simply no stopping them. Usually, it was Harry Potter attending school with them that had everyone excited. It was just _so_ interesting that a celebrity was going to school with them. 

Fortunately for the poor “celebrity”, someone else held the spotlight at dinner that evening. Sure, everyone was still gathered around the Gryffindor table, but at least they were ignoring Harry. 

Sally-Anne wasn’t used to so much attention from people, but she was dealing with it the best she could. She was finding that the hardest part of all the attention was explaining why she couldn’t leave the shield up all the time. 

“It takes a lot of energy to maintain it,” she explained for what she thought was the sixth time (In reality, it was the eleventh). “I could only use it as much as I did in my duel because it also absorbs spell energy. Every time it stops a spell, it gives me part of the energy of the spell.” 

Once again, this raised several gasps and whispers from the audience. 

“Where’d you get it?” Parvati asked. 

“Tell us!” Jonathon Nertlyn shouted. 

“ _That’s_ a secret,” Sally-Anne said, smiling slyly. 

“Come on!” Lavender complained. 

Sally-Anne caught Harry’s eye. He was smiling for what Sally-Anne thought must have been the first time in weeks. He was happily chatting with Ron, who was patient enough about it to know he would learn all about whatever tricks Sally-Anne had. When Harry noticed Sally-Anne, he mouthed “Thank you”. 

Sally-Anne mouthed “You’re welcome” back to her friend. While Sally-Anne wasn’t sure about all the attention she was currently receiving, she didn’t care, so long as her friend was happy. 

The other Gryffindor champion of the dueling club, Rose, had slipped off while Sally-Anne had everyone distracted. Rose had escaped to the Ravenclaw table, where for once, she was greeted in a manner that was almost warm. 

“Hey, Peta-Lorrum,” Penelope Clearwater said. 

“Salutations, Penelope!” Rose said as she sat down beside Luna. 

“Don’t tell anyone I said this,” Penelope said, “but that was _brilliant_ what you did to Lockhart. I don’t care who he _thinks_ he is, but my marks shouldn’t have to suffer just because I don’t know what his favorite colour is.” 

“You too?” Rebecca asked. “I barely made it through those stupid books of his. _Nothing_ he says in class is relevant to defending myself against dark wizards.” 

“He set his hair on fire once in one of my classes,” Rose said, grinning. “It was _really_ funny.” 

“Wish I could’ve seen that,” Roger said, joining the conversation. “Although, he _did_ nearly blow himself up in one of our classes.” 

“Was that a naked mole rat into which you transfigured him?” Penelope asked. 

“Yup!” Rose exclaimed. “It was Hermione’s idea!” 

“Granger?!” Rebecca asked, glancing over at the Gryffindor table where Hermione was sitting. “I guess that was a good idea.” 

“Of course it was!” Rose exclaimed. “Like I said, _Hermione_ thought of it.” 

Rebecca rolled her eyes, although she promptly stopped when she saw Rose glaring at her. She decided that badmouthing Granger while her best friend was sitting within spitting distance was a bad idea. _Especially_ after what she had just seen the crimson-haired girl do to the Defence Against the Dark Arts “professor”. 

“Leave it to Granger to come up with something like that,” Roger chuckled. Noticing Rose’s tilted head, he added, “I mean that in a nice way.” 

Rose leaned over to Luna. “Are they afraid of me?” she whispered. 

“I can’t think why they would be,” Luna replied. “You only ever attack students in self-defence.” 

“ _Exactly_ ,” Rose replied. “Thanks for understanding, Luna.” 

“You’re welcome, Rose,” Luna replied happily. “Have you talked with your brother yet?” 

“Not yet,” Rose said. “Actually, I can probably do that after dinner. I’m sure Alice will want to hear about my duel with Lockhart, too.” 

“Don’t forget,” Luna said, taking another bite of food. After she finished, she added, “Sk’lar gets anxious when you don’t check in.” 

“That’s _one_ word for it,” Rose said. As much as she loved her big brother, she hated how overprotective of her he was. It’s not like she didn’t understand why, but she didn’t have to like it. 

“Is your brother overbearing?” Penelope asked, trying to be nice to the bizarre girl. 

“A little,” Rose replied. “He’s nervous because he can’t sense my _status_ since I’m on another plane, and he’s afraid I’ll die without him knowing.” 

Penelope, not knowing how else to respond to such an absurd statement, simply said, “Okay.” 

* * *

After dinner, Sally-Anne was followed by a herd of Gryffindor students, all still in awe of her and her Shield Rune. She was flanked by Ginny and Hermione, both of whom ensured that no one bothered her _too_ much. They were assisted by the Twins, although Sally-Anne wasn’t sure she was comfortable with them being that close to her. 

Following just behind the crowd were Ron and Harry, still talking about Quidditch, or how terrifying Professor Snape was, or anything _other_ than the fact that Harry was a parselmouth or the existence of the Basilisk. Harry was enjoying being a normal boy, and Ron was enjoying talking with his best mate. She knew the trick to their hats, so when one of them took another form, she tracked them by the headpiece they had to wear. 

After returning to the Gryffindor Common Room, the entire house was still riding the high of beating Slytherin at a competition, and someone suggested a party. No one was quite sure who it was exactly, since the only one who had seen was Hermione, and all she knew was that it was one of the Twins. 

With the Twins providing the food, drinks, and even some live entertainment, the party went well into the evening. Hermione spent most of the night talking with Ginny, who was surprisingly chatty when Harry wasn’t near her. 

Rose was nowhere to be found, but for once, Hermione wasn’t worried. She checked up on her friend now and then using the seashell Rose had given her, which Hermione had dubbed the _condition conch_. During one of her check-ins, Hermione had mentioned this to Rose, who was ecstatic about it. 

<How do you feel about calling the seashell the _condition conch_? > Hermione pathed to Rose. 

<THAT’S THE BEST IDEA EVER!>

Hermione had been so startled by Rose’s reaction that she’d fallen over where she was sitting in the Common Room. 

<I’m glad you like it, Rose.>

Hermione smiled thinking about it. She wasn’t sure what tomorrow would bring, but Hermione decided that for the time being, she would just relax and enjoy herself. 

“Hi, Hermione.” 

Hermione glanced up as Alex sat down beside her. Hermione hadn’t seen much of the curly-haired prefect over the past few weeks, other than the occasional safety instruction. She’d think it was odd, but Alex was taking her cousin’s wrong-doings personally, and kept insisting that she see to him. Hermione figured that Alex felt responsible for her cousin, just like how Percy felt responsible for Fred and George. 

“Hello, Alex,” Hermione replied. “Enjoying the party?” 

“I’ve enjoyed it a lot more since I lost track of Jonathon,” Alex replied. Her eyes widened as she realized what she had said. “Sorry, what I meant was–” 

“There are five other prefects,” Hermione said simply. “He’s not even in my year. There’s another prefect that should be looking after him, isn’t there?” 

“Yeah, I know,” Alex said. “He’s family, and I feel like I’ve got to look after him.” 

“Alex, I can’t believe I’m giving _you_ advice on people,” Hermione said. “Actually, I can’t believe I’m giving _anyone_ advice on people, but here’s how I think about Rose: There’s someone responsible for dealing with her, and it’s not me. I used to think ‘She’s my friend and housemate, so I’ve got to keep her out of trouble, cos if I don’t, it’ll reflect poorly on me’, but right now, I’m thinking ‘She’ll be fine, and if she gets caught, it’ll be a first.’” 

“You’ve relaxed more than last year.” 

“Over the summer, I realized I’ve just got to roll with whatever Rose does,” Hermione said. “She’s going to do strange things, and they might get her into trouble, but that’s what she does.” Hermione shrugged. “It’s not my fault if she does, so I’m not worried about it.” 

“Wow,” Alex said. “That’s pretty mature, Hermione.” 

“I’m still working on implementing it,” Hermione said, “but I’ve certainly felt better since working on it.” 

“‘Implementing’?” Alex asked. 

“Putting it into effect,” Hermione clarified. “Sorry, I read a lot.” 

“I gathered,” Alex said, laughing. “You said ‘I read about that’ in some way at least 12 times last year.” 

“Really?” 

“I was counting,” Alex said. “Changing the subject, how’s Sally-Anne been doing this week?” 

“She’s been alright,” Hermione said. “Still a little jumpy, but that might be due to whatever Rose has been doing to her.” Seeing Alex’s questioning look, Hermione continued. “Most people try not to spend more time with Rose than they need to, even Sally-Anne and I, but Sally-Anne’s been spending more time with Rose this past week. Honestly, I’m a little afraid to leave Rose’s side with the Basilisk in the school. For the moment, I’m alright, since Rose said it’s still recovering.” 

“She said the same thing to me,” Alex said. “How can she know that?” 

“She personally pummeled it senseless,” Hermione replied casually. “Also, she can find anyone or anything that she’s already met. Rose said the Basilisk hasn’t moved since last week.” 

Alex blinked. “Uh huh.” The prefect looked around the room. “Where is Rose?” 

“No idea,” Hermione said. “I could ask, but either she won’t tell me, because she doesn’t want me to know, or she will tell me, and _I_ won’t want to know. So I’m just gonna let her be.” 

“Okay then,” Alex said. She leaned in closer. “Do you know why Harry keeps glancing at Sally-Anne?” 

Hermione looked over at Ron and Harry, who were sitting on the opposite side of the room from her. Sure enough, within a few seconds, Harry glanced over at Sally-Anne. 

“Not sure, but probably because of their fight,” Hermione said. “I don’t think they’ve talked about it yet.” 

“It’s not good to keep things pent-up like that,” Alex said. “They should–” 

“Hello, Hermione!” 

Hermione jumped at the stereo greeting of the Weasley Twins. 

“That’s a little creepy when you do that,” Hermione said. 

“We know,” one of them said. Hermione couldn’t tell them apart, so she dubbed that one George. 

“That’s why we do it,” Fred said. 

“Of course it is,” Hermione said, feeling sorry for their mother. How did Mrs. Weasley handle not only having enough children that Hermione had to consciously count them in her head, but two of whom were Fred and George? 

“Fred, George,” Alex greeted the both of them. “What do you need an alibi for this time, boys?” 

“An alibi?” gasped Fred. 

“Alexandra, how could you?” George said, looking offended. 

“We’re hurt that you’d think–” 

“–that we’re up to something!” 

“Sure you are,” Alex said, rising to her feet. “Whatever it is, don’t break anything, don’t hurt anyone, and don’t let me find out about it.” 

“You can count on us!” both boys said. 

“I’m sure I can,” Alex said, walking away before she got involved. 

_That was perfect,_ Hermione thought. _I hope I can be that calm about Rose someday._

“Are you _really_ up to something?” muttered Hermione, an unrelated idea popping into her head. 

“Why do you ask?” George asked her. 

“Because I need your help,” Hermione said. “We can’t leave the Common Room since it’s past curfew, but if Harry and Sally-Anne don’t talk about their fight soon, I’m afraid Harry’s going to just bottle it back up and never talk about it.” 

Hermione wasn’t sure what concerned her more: The grins on the Twins faces, or that she was happy to see them grinning. 

“We were saving this for Ronykins,” Fred said. 

“But Harry’s family enough,” George said. 

“Mum made him a jumper.” 

“That practically makes him family.” 

“Alright,” Hermione said. “What’s the plan?” 

“Sleeping draught,” Fred said. 

“Just a small amount in everyone’s drink,” George continued. 

“Not enough to knock them out–” 

“–But enough to make them sleepy.” 

“So sleep they can’t walk straight, you see,” Fred said. 

“So their friends will need to help them,” George added. 

“So even if they don’t get something to drink,” Hermione said, “they’ll still need to leave.” 

“It’ll clear out everyone,” George said, still grinning. “You catch on quick.” 

“Thanks,” Hermione said. “I think. Where is it?” 

“In our room,” said Fred. 

“We’ll go grab it,” said George. 

Hermione was amazed by how effective the plan actually was. Sure enough, nearly everyone was drowsy within a few minutes. Harry and Sally-Anne remained unaffected, as did Hermione and Ginny. One by one, people were taken upstairs, including Ron. 

“Come on, Ronykins,” Fred said, taking one arm of his brother. 

“You need your beauty sleep,” George added, taking the other arm. 

Despite Ron’s lethargic protests, his brothers still dragged him with them up the stairs, leaving Sally-Anne, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny alone in the Gryffindor Common Room. 

“Come on, Ginny,” Hermione said. “We should get going, too.” 

“Alright,” Ginny said quietly, once again nervous about being around Harry. She quickly followed the older girl up the stairs. 

“I’ve got the strangest feeling that this was planned,” Sally-Anne said, realizing that no one else remained in the Common Room. 

“Why’s that?” asked Harry. 

“Just a feeling,” Sally-Anne replied. 

“Alright,” Harry said. After a minute of awkward silence, he said, “Hey, Sally-Anne?” 

“What?” 

“Thanks,” Harry said, smiling. “For earlier, during dinner. It was nice feeling normal for a moment.” 

Sally-Anne smiled back at her friend. “You’re welcome, Harry.” 

“And…” Harry paused for a few moments to gather his thoughts. “I’m sorry for yelling at you last week. I was just so–” 

“You don’t have to explain anything,” Sally-Anne said. “I’ve already forgiven you, and it wasn’t your fault that I was attacked.” 

Harry nodded, his entire apology stopped short. “Still, if I hadn’t–” 

“But you did,” Sally-Anne said. “And I’m telling you that it’s alright. There’s nowhere to go now except forwards.” Sally-Anne smiled. “It’s really alright. I know how much stress you’ve been dealing with the past few weeks, so I don’t blame you. Everything will be alright. Between the teachers and Rose, the Basilisk will be gone before you know it, and it will be back to… I was going to say ‘normal’, but that doesn’t really fit Hogwarts, does it.” 

“As normal as ever,” Harry said, smiling. “Thanks.” Harry looked down at the couch, then up at Sally-Anne. “I never had friends growing up. Any time someone tried to be nice to me, Dudley always scared them away or threatened them so they wouldn’t go near me.” 

“That’s awful,” Sally-Anne said. 

“It got better once I found out that he was doing it,” Harry said. “Before that, I thought there was really something wrong with me. I didn’t understand why someone that would try to be nice to me one moment would become scared of me the next. I know it sounds strange, but I was relieved when I found out that Dudley was frightening everyone away.” 

Sally-Anne smiled and took Harry’s hands in hers. “Don’t worry, Harry. No one can frighten me away, and Ron and Hermione are too attached to you. And… well, we both know nothing frightens Rose.” 

The two friends shared a relaxing bout of laughter at that. 

“Thanks, Sally-Anne,” Harry said. He leaned over and hugged his dirty-blonde friend. “I’m glad you’re alright. I don’t want to lose any of my friends.” 

Sally-Anne smiled and returned her friend’s hug. “Don’t worry about me, Harry.” As they released each other, Sally-Anne turned her hand so her palm was facing the ceiling. “ _Strada_ ,” she whispered, causing a small, translucent disc to appear above her outstretched palm. “Rose has been teaching me to fend for myself.” 

“I know,” Harry said. 

“You do?” Sally-Anne asked as the disc vanished. 

“Hermione and Ron figured it out,” Harry said. “Ron noticed that you two had been spending more time together, and Hermione suggested that Rose might be helping you cope with the attack.” 

“Oh,” Sally-Anne said, her face turning a faint shade of pink. “I was hoping no one had noticed.” 

“That you’ve been spending more time with Rose, that you shake every time we go by Myrtle’s bathroom, or that you flinch whenever you hear hissing?” 

Sally-Anne stared at her friend. Had she really been that obvious? She was a little disappointed; she thought that she had been hiding it well. What had given her away? She was careful to walk behind them when going by the bathroom so her friends didn’t notice her shaking uncontrollably. How had Harry noticed her? 

Thanks to her amulet, Sally-Anne figured out the answer: Harry’s glasses. They not only drastically improved his vision, but they apparently improved his other senses as well. His hearing and sense of smell were both enhanced thanks to Rose’s gift, which meant that the subtle signs that she was afraid would be more apparent to “Scarface”, and less obvious to the others. 

That didn’t explain how Sally-Anne hadn’t heard him thinking about it, though. She couldn’t remember all the rules to her amulet, but decided to ask Rose about it later. She was sure there was an explanation for it. 

“Don’t worry,” Harry said, having counted out five seconds since his friend had answered. He wasn’t sure if it was a good rule, but he was trying to work out how long it normally took for his friends to answer. Sally-Anne usually answered within a few seconds, so Harry was pretty sure that when she took longer to answer, it meant that there was something bothering her. At least, that’s what Harry was assuming. “I don’t think Ron and Hermione noticed how bad it really is.” 

Sally-Anne started shaking, remembering her attack a week ago. She had a sudden flash of the duel when the snake lashed out at her and caught her arm. 

“Sally-Anne?” Harry said, as he spotted a tear falling out of her eye and onto the couch. What had he done? He had upset her _again_! What was he supposed to do? 

_Run after her and apologize, Potter._

“I’m sorry, Sally-Anne,” Harry said, remembering Rose’s words. “I didn’t mean to–” 

“It’s alright,” Sally-Anne said, forcing a smile and wiping tears out of her eyes. “I think I’m just tired, and… that snake Malfoy summoned just… it scared me.” 

Harry smiled. “ _That_ I can handle.” 

Sally-Anne looked at him. “What?” 

“Hermione suggested that we look up parseltounge, so me and Ron did Monday morning,” Harry said. “I can talk to snakes, but I can also _command_ them. So next time a snake attacks us, I can order it to leave us alone.” 

Harry wasn’t sure exactly how true that was, but it was cheering up his friend, and that was the important part. Harry couldn’t stand to see Sally-Anne upset again, although that might have been in part due to the trauma of Rose nearly killing him the last time he had upset her. 

“Thank you,” Sally-Anne said, smiling sadly. “I think I need some rest.” 

“Okay,” Harry said, standing up from the couch. “Good night, Sally-Anne.” 

“Good night, Harry,” she replied, turning to begin the six-flight journey to her room. 

* * *

“What’s on your mind?” Hermione asked Ginny as the two girls ascended the stairs. 

“It’s nothing,” Ginny said. 

“Is it about Harry?” Hermione asked. 

“Maybe,” Ginny mumbled. 

“Don’t worry about him,” Hermione said. “There are plenty of other boys in this school. Besides, there’s nothing going on between Harry and Sally-Anne. They just needed to talk about their fight last week.” 

“What happened?” 

“Harry was upset and took it out on Sally-Anne,” Hermione said. “She got upset, ran off, and ended up another victim of the Basilisk.” 

“Oh,” Ginny said. She already knew that Sally-Anne was attacked, as did the entire school. She was also there when Sally-Anne and Harry got into their fight, so none of this was news to her. She had asked thinking that there was more to the story, specifically more to their relationship. It was _always_ on her mind. How did Hermione _not_ worry about boys? Most of Ginny’s roommates talked about boys, most of the older girls with whom she had spoken talked about boys, but Rose and Hermione _never_ did. “How do you do it, Hermione? I’ve never once heard you talk about boys.” 

“I guess boys aren’t as high of a priority to me as the possibility that I’m going to die at any second,” Hermione said. “And I’m not just referring to the Basilisk. This sort of thing seems to happen a lot around Rose. It’s not like she’s dangerous, but she goes looking for trouble.” Hermione paused, then added, “Well, not trouble, but… _entertainment_. She gets bored easily.” 

“So, you’re not interested in boys at all?” Ginny asked. 

“Not at the moment,” Hermione said. “I’m sure that will change soon, but for now, they haven’t been on my mind. Not in that sense, anyway.” 

“What about Rose and Sally-Anne?” 

“I don’t know about Sally-Anne, but I’m almost certain that Rose doesn’t care.” 

“Why not?” 

“She’s… Rose.” Hermione blinked. “I need a better adjective for her than ‘Rose’, but I’m not sure there _is_ a better one.” 

“She’s not normal, is she?” Ginny asked. 

“Not one bit,” Hermione said, laughing. 

“If she’s so strange, why be friends with her?” Ginny asked. 

“I’m not normal either,” Hermione said. “I’ve been an outcast as long as I can remember because unlike most people, I _enjoy_ learning. I enjoy school and books and classes.” 

Ginny made a face of disgust. “I don’t know how anyone could like class.” 

“Precisely,” Hermione said. “Rose and I are both different from everyone else, and she keeps us safe.” 

“I guess Sally-Anne’s doing better with that now, too,” Ginny said sullenly. 

“Three things,” Hermione said. “First, Harry’s sweet, but he’s also oblivious. Second, I’m not sure that Sally-Anne likes him, more that she’s worried about him. Finally, if you want Harry to notice you, stop treating him differently. He says he _hates_ that. Harry just wants to be a normal boy, so treating him like some sort of hero is just going to annoy him.” 

“Okay,” Ginny said, nodding her understanding. “Is there anything else? Should I learn more spells, or practice Quidditch more?” 

“Stop there,” Hermione said. “Be you, Ginny. Don’t be the girl that you think Harry wants you to be, just be yourself. If you want to learn more spells or take up Quidditch, then go ahead, but do it because _you_ want to do it.” 

Ginny nodded. “Wow. You sound almost like Percy, but in a _good_ way.” 

“Thanks,” Hermione said. “I’ve never thought of myself as being good with people, but do you know how your parents always give you lectures and pep talks?” 

“Yeah,” Ginny said, sounding like any other kid that was tired of being lectured by their parents. 

“I spent some time a few weeks ago writing down all of those talks I’ve had with my parents,” Hermione said. “I’ve got a good memory, and one of those talks was about trying to make friends. My parents were worried when my marks were slipping a few years ago. They were slipping because my classmates hated me when I got better marks than them, so I thought they’d like me more if I didn’t try so hard. My parents told me not to worry about what the other kids thought, and that I should just be myself.” 

“You remember all of your parents’ lectures?” Ginny said, her eyes wide. “That must be annoying.” 

“Not really,” Hermione said. “Actually, it’s been rather helpful. It’s like my parents are still with me, even now. It’s hard with them back home and me being here.” 

“I’ve got Percy, so it’s like Mum and Dad are _both_ here,” Ginny said. 

Both girls laughed as they passed the fourth floor. 

Hermione liked Ginny. She was a little hotheaded, but she was good at heart. Almost like a younger version of Rose, although not quite so… quirky. Hermione could tell that the red-head’s obsession with Harry was bothering her, so Hermione did the only thing she knew that could cheer up anyone: Magic. 

“Ginny, would you like to see a new spell I learned?” Hermione asked. “I can teach it to you if you’d like.” 

“Sure!” Ginny exclaimed, eager to learn something that her brothers might not know. Being the youngest of seven, Ginny was always the last one to do anything. 

“Sh!” hissed Hermione. 

Ginny clapped her hands over her mouth as Hermione pulled her wand out of her pocket and waved it around. 

“ _Lacarnum flurrus,_ ” Hermione whispered. As she continued to wave her wand, four small buds of blue fire popped out of her wand like bubbles from a bubble wand. They floated through the air, circling around Hermione’s head. 

“I found that in a book last month,” Hermione said. “It’s a variation on the blue bell flame. They don’t produce much heat, but they give off plenty of light. I thought they’d make good reading lights.” 

“Wow,” Ginny breathed. 

“I know,” Hermione said, smiling. “It’s called the ‘blue bell flurry’ spell. Rose got a kick out of it. She said they reminded her of the sigils that orbit an Illumian’s head, whatever that means.” 

“What’s an Illumian?” 

“Exactly my point,” Hermione said. “I’ve got no idea. One of those Rose things, I guess.” 

Ginny pulled out her wand. “Alright. How did you do that?” 

Hermione showed her the wand movement again, and made her practice it before trying the actual spell. After a few wrong tries, Hermione took Ginny’s hand and moved it through the motion, after which Ginny understood what she needed to do. Fortunately for Hermione, Ginny had an easier time speaking the incantation than her brother did. Hermione didn’t know what it was with Ron, but the boy _always_ had problems with incantations. 

The girls walked slowly, and by the time they reached the sixth floor, Ginny had learned the blue bell flurry spell. 

“Good job, Ginny,” Hermione said as they arrived at her room. “Make sure you dismiss them before you get to your room.” Hermione waved her wand. “ _Flurrus finae._ ” 

The flames around her head shrank, and slowly faded away into nothing. 

“ _Flurrus finae_ ,” Ginny repeated, and the flames that she created vanished from sight. She smiled. “Thanks, Hermione.” 

“You’re welcome,” Hermione said. “Again, don’t worry about Harry. There are plenty of other boys just as oblivious as he is. You should try obsessing over one of _them_.” 

“You first,” Ginny said, flashing a grin that reminded Hermione an awful lot of the girl’s brothers. 

“Sure, I’ll get _right_ on that,” Hermione said, laughing. “Good night, Ginny.” 

“Good night, Hermione.” 

Hermione watched the first-year walk up the stairs a ways, then turned to her room. To her surprise, she found the last person that she had expected to see in their room. 

“Rose?” 

“Salutations!” the crimson-haired second-year replied. “How was the party?” 

“It was alright,” Hermione said, noticing that both Lavender and Parvati were already fast asleep. “Party’s aren’t exactly my cup of tea.” 

Rose cocked her head. “Huh?” 

“I don’t care for parties,” Hermione clarified. 

“Oh,” Rose said. “Me either. Last party I was at got crashed by a squadron of red dragons.” 

Hermione frowned. “Was… was that when you…” 

“No,” Rose replied. “They burned Thars to the ground, though. That’s the capital of Luna. Shadow’s been helping with reconstruction for the past few years, now.” Before Hermione could ask any further questions, Rose added, “Was there dancing at the party?” 

“No.” 

“Then I definitely don’t care. Parties are only fun when there’s dancing.” 

“You really enjoy dancing, don’t you?” Hermione asked as she walked over to her soft, comfortable bed. 

“Yup!” Rose exclaimed happily. “Mum and Dad taught me how to dance.” She smiled. “One night while we were out camping when I was six, we heard some music when we were sitting around our campfire. It turned out that there was a Bard and his troupe not too far from us, and they were practicing for some performance they had soon. I asked if we could go see them, and Mum said just for a minute.” 

Hermione couldn’t believe it. Rose _never_ talked about her parents. All Hermione knew about them was that they had died when she was nine, her dad had red hair, and her mum had black hair. Yet here they were, with Rose telling Hermione a story about the foreigner’s parents. 

“So the three of us all walk over, and we see the Bard. He introduced himself as ‘Seeker’.” Rose grinned. “I’ve met him a few more times since then. He’s a friend of Bowie’s, and the founder of the Seekers of the Song. Anyway, he says we’re welcome to stay and listen to them play, because his music was available to anyone who wanted to listen.” Rose’s grin faded to a dreamy smile. “After a few minutes of listening, Dad turns to me, offers his hand, and says ‘May I have this dance, young lady?’” Rose laughed at the memory. “So the two of us start dancing like mad Kobolds, and then Dad has this wonderful idea. We both grabbed one of Mum’s arms and pulled her into our dance.” 

Hermione smiled, not just at the story, but at her friend’s face. It was full of emotion, of honest joy. It wasn’t the over-the-top smile that Rose always had on her face, but a calm, gentle smile. Her smile was one of a little girl lost in a happy memory with her parents. 

“So we danced all night, listening to Seeker and his troupe. We danced until I fell asleep.” She turned to look at Hermione. “That’s why I love camping so much. It was always so much fun with them, and with Alice and Sk’lar.” She returned to staring at the ceiling. “Well, Sk’lar the one time Alice and I convinced him to go camping with us. He didn’t care for it, since he only started appreciating the outdoors after he met Carolina.” 

Something tripped Rose’s _blindsight_ , and she turned to see that it was Hermione. The bushy-haired girl threw her arms around Rose. 

“I’m sorry about your parents,” Hermione whispered. 

Rose returned the hug. “It’s alright. Carolina says what’s important is that I remember them. That way, they’ll always be with me.” 

“Have you been up here all night?” Hermione asked as she returned to her bed. 

“Yup,” Rose replied. 

“Talking to your friends back home?” 

“Yup!” Rose exclaimed, beaming. “They love the name ‘ _condition conch_ ’.” 

“I’m glad,” Hermione said, a little proud of herself for coining the name. “How many are there?” 

“Ten,” Rose said. 

“So you’ve got nine more of these?” Hermione asked, holding up the _condition conch_. 

“Nope,” Rose replied. “I’ve only got one more with me. Everyone got two.” She began to count off on her fingers. “Carolina gave one to each of her parents, Sk’lar gave his to Uncle Oz and Alice, Bowie to Arytiss and Harold, and Shadow to Q. Shadow and I are the only ones who still have one.” 

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask,” Hermione said. “Did Shadow’s parents really name her Shadow?” 

“Of course not,” Rose replied. “That would be ridiculous. She gave _herself_ that name.” 

“So it’s not her real name,” Hermione said. 

“Yes, it is,” Rose replied irritably. “Like I told the Exalted, my name could be Florence Anderson, but I’d be no different. A name is just something to call a person, and I’ve always known her as Shadow Black.” 

Hermione knew she had hit a nerve of some kind, so she dropped the subject. 

“Like the famous Shakespearean line,” Hermione said. “‘A rose by any other name would smell just as sweet’.” 

Rose grinned and whipped out her notebook. “I’m writing down that one!” 

Hermione smiled. She still had a lot of questions, but she knew Rose would tell her eventually. 

“It’s been a long day,” Hermione said. “I think we could use some rest.” 

“Agreed.” 

Both girls turned to the entrance to their room and saw Sally-Anne dragging herself up the steps. 

“Hey, Rose,” she greeted her crimson-haired friend. “Hey, Hermione. Thanks.” 

“For what?” Hermione asked. 

“Clearing the room so Harry and I could talk.” 

“ _I_ didn’t do that,” Hermione said. “What makes you think that _I_ –” 

“You’re a terrible liar,” Sally-Anne said. 

“I’m still denying it,” Hermione said. 

“That’s the spirit!” Rose exclaimed. Quieter, she added, “Deny everything!” 

“Right,” Sally-Anne said. “Anyway, bed.” 

“Bed,” Hermione agreed. 

“Bed!” exclaimed Rose. 


	18. Time to Unwind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Filch has a less unpleasant day than usual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** To unwind for a long day of writing, I will remind everyone that Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling.

“Good morning, Professor Babbling,” Sally-Anne said. 

“Good morning, Sally-Anne. Please, have a seat.” 

Sally-Anne sat up straight in the provided chair. 

“I just wanted to say again,” Professor Babbling said, “I’m proud of how well you did yesterday in your duel. I’ve seen few people as skilled with the Shield Rune as you are.” 

_Not that there are that many people out there with them…_ Sally-Anne heard Professor Babbling think. 

“Thank you,” Sally-Anne replied. 

She found it interesting that Professor Babbling hadn’t mentioned how new the Shield Rune was. Why hadn’t she? Was Professor Babbling concerned that it was new? Was it unstable? Most importantly, how had Ron read about them if they were only invented recently? Wait, since when did Ron read anything that _wasn’t_ related to class? 

“How’s your arm?” Professor Babbling asked, snapping Sally-Anne out of her thoughts. 

“Good enough that I’d completely forgotten about it,” Sally-Anne replied, laughing. “Rose fixed it up right away, so I was alright.” Her smile faded. “I was trying so hard to prove that I could take care of myself without Rose, but in the end, I found myself thinking that I’d be fine once Rose fixed my arm. I didn’t really know what else to do about it at the time, so I just brushed it off thinking ‘Rose will fix it.’” 

“Why didn’t you want to rely on Ms. Peta-Lorrum?” 

“She said she won’t always be here,” Sally-Anne said. “I don’t know what she meant by it, but she told me it was a bad idea to count on her all the time. Also that life is cruel and unfair.” 

“You children are too young to be that cynical,” Professor Babbling replied. 

“She lost her parents,” Sally-Anne snapped. 

“I didn’t mean to offend you or her.” 

Sally-Anne blushed, realizing that she’d overreacted. 

“Sorry, professor.” 

“Not to worry,” Professor Babbling said, smiling. “Is she the one that taught you how to use it like that?” 

“Mhm,” Sally-Anne said, nodding. “She’s been helping me practice since I was attacked by the Basilisk.” 

“You learned all that in a week?” Professor Babbling asked, her eyes wide. 

“She worked me pretty hard, but I guess it was worth it in the end.” 

“Just don’t push yourself,” Professor Babbling said. “Have I told you about the woman who invented the Shield Rune?” 

“No,” Sally-Anne said. “Ron found a paper that was published by her describing the Shield Rune, but that’s all I’ve got about her. Her name was Pandora… Something. Sorry, I only remembered Pandora because of the story of Pandora’s Box.” 

“Kapisa. She always used her maiden name when publishing her work due to the… reputation her married name carries with it. Pandora was astounding, to say the least.” 

Sally-Anne smiled. “Where is she now?” 

Sally-Anne could tell that the answer wasn’t good when she saw the look on her professor’s face. 

“She died a few years ago while experimenting.” 

“I’m so sorry,” Sally-Anne said. 

“As I said, don’t get carried away.” 

“I won’t, I just want to keep my friends safe,” Sally-Anne said. 

Professor Babbling nodded, and Sally-Anne smiled, glad to know that her mentor agreed with her goal. 

“Only one more thing,” Professor Babbling said. She smiled apologetically. “I promise this is the last thing I need to talk to you about.” 

Sally-Anne smiled. “It’s alright. I don’t mind talking to you, and I’m sure my friends aren’t getting into too much trouble while I’m gone.” 

* * *

No one was certain how they had gotten into this mess. The last thing Harry remembered was following Rose when she said they were going on an adventure. In hindsight, that was probably a bad idea. 

“Leave them alone, Malfoy!” 

Strangely enough, it wasn’t any of the four of them talking. Harry and Rose had heard shouting from somewhere down the corridor, and Rose insisted that they should go see who was causing it. Again, probably not the best idea any of them had ever had. 

Walking towards the source of the noise, the group found Malfoy and his two goons threatening a group of Hufflepuffs. At the front of the group of Hufflepuffs were Ernie Macmillan and Justin Finch-Fletchley. Harry was certain it had been one of those two that had shouted earlier. Behind them, backed against the wall, were Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones, and Ellie Langley. 

“What are you gonna do, mudblood?” Malfoy sneered back at Justin. 

They knew the Hufflepuffs were nice people, so when the group saw who was being threatened by Malfoy _this_ time, they decided to help. Which was, once again, probably not a good idea. Sure, they had him outnumbered, but Malfoy was stubborn. Even being outnumbered nine to three, he wasn’t about to give up without a fight. Even when one of those nine was Rose Peta-Lorrum. 

“I wouldn’t worry about him, Butterhead, I’d worry about _me_.” 

The Hufflepuffs jumped when they saw Rose Peta-Lorrum appear out of nowhere. She leaned on Malfoy’s shoulder, while the blond Slytherin gritted his teeth. 

“This doesn’t involve you, Freak,” he said. 

“If I had to take a guess, I’d say you’re taking your frustrations with not being able to beat Sally-Anne yesterday out on these innocent Hufflepuff students,” Rose said. “But that’s just me. Oh! And my imaginary friend! He thinks so too.” 

“What are _you_ doing here?” Malfoy snapped. 

“ _We_ were walking through the castle,” Peta-Lorrum replied. “We weren’t expecting to find you here, though. We heard shouting, and I thought ‘Let’s check it out!’” 

“Probably not our _brightest_ idea,” Ron muttered. 

“I hear you,” Harry agreed. 

“Now that we’ve established why we’re all here,” Rose said. “Why don’t you stop picking on innocent Hufflepuffs? I think we all know _we’re_ the people with whom you take issue.” 

“Is that so?!” Malfoy spat. 

“Of course,” Rose said. She stuck her thumb out at Harry. “You’ve had it in for Harry since he got here.” She pointed at Ron. “You despise Ron because your dad hates his dad, you don’t like Hermione because she’s smarter than you.” Rose pointed down the corridor. “You’re angry at Sally-Anne for beating you yesterday.” Finally, she indicated herself. “And of course, _me_.” 

“What’s going on here?” 

Everyone except Rose jumped when they heard Professor McGonagall’s voice coming from behind the Gryffindors. 

“Justin, Ernie, Ellie, Susan, and Hannah got turned around,” Rose said, indicating each of the Hufflepuffs in turn. “We stumbled upon them, but even Hermione and I haven’t got the castle layout memorized yet. So we couldn’t help them find their way. But luckily for all of us, Draco and his pals came along, and knew exactly where to go!” 

Professor McGonagall looked from one student to another. 

Harry and Ron exchanged looks when she wasn’t looking directly at them. What was Rose doing? 

“Alright, then,” Professor McGonagall said. “Why don’t you all continue on your way? No need to stand around loitering.” 

“Sounds like a plan!” Rose exclaimed. She began to skip away from a confused looking Malfoy, skipping right past Professor McGonagall. 

“Ms. Peta-Lorrum,” Professor McGonagall whispered as the girl skipped past. “Don’t think for a second that I believed you.” 

“I didn’t,” the girl replied. “But I didn’t need _you_ to believe me, I just needed Draco to think that he hadn’t lost.” 

“Why?” asked the Transfiguration Professor. 

“Like my friend Carolina says: ‘If you fight Evocation with Evocation, you just end up destroying everything. If you fight it with Abjuration, then you save everyone.’” 

“I’m sorry?” 

“What?” Harry whispered to Hermione. 

“No idea.” 

“She used to say ‘If you fight fire with fire, you end up with a bigger fire’, but she stopped after she realized how much I liked fire.” 

“I’m glad you’ve decided to try a different tactic,” Professor McGonagall whispered. “But Ms. Peta-Lorrum?” 

“Yes?” 

“In the future, do not lie to me.” 

“I’ll do my best!” 

“What was that about?” Hermione asked once Professor McGonagall left them alone. 

“Something else Carolina said,” Rose said. “I’ll tell you later.” 

* * *

“All students begin their careers with the Trace active on them,” Professor Babbling explained. “The Trace does not extend beyond Great Britain, as it is a system established by the Ministry of Magic. Although, I have heard that America uses a similar system.” 

“How does it work?” asked Sally-Anne. 

“Beneath the entire country is a runic network, carved into the very bedrock upon which the island sits. This network listens for magic, so to speak. When you cast a spell through a wand, the Trace catches it, and isolates the approximate area in which the spell was cast, and the spell itself. Once you reach adulthood, the Trace is automatically removed. Once again, this is a part of the runic network. Not even the Ministry of Magic can alter this system.” 

“When is the Trace placed on a person?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“From the moment any witch or wizard is born, they have the Trace on them,” Professor Babbling explained. “This network is part of how we identify potential students. Typically, all it does is spit out a name to the Ministry, who passes it off to us. When the child is of age, they receive an acceptance letter, as you did.” 

“And Professor McGonagall came to my house and explained everything to us,” Sally-Anne said, remembering the Transfiguration Professor’s visit and how excited she herself had been. “My parents and I, I mean.” 

“Precisely. When you use your wand, the runic network detects it, and if you’re outside of Hogwarts, then the Ministry is notified immediately. I’ve done a lot of research on the network, so there is one thing I know which you should be aware of.” 

“What is that?” 

“The Shield Rune won’t be detected by the runic network, and therefore the Trace.” 

“So… I would be able to use it outside of Hogwarts?” 

“Just as you would be able to use any runic magic without being detected,” Professor Babbling said. “But that doesn’t mean you _should_ , nor that you are _allowed_ to. I don’t think I need to inform your parents of this, but–” 

“I don’t have any reason to use the rune, Professor,” Sally-Anne said quickly. “Well, I wanted to show my parents, but that was it. Is that alright?” 

Professor Babbling smiled. “So long as you only do it the once.” 

“I will,” Sally-Anne replied. “I promise.” 

“I know you will,” Professor Babbling replied. “Now, I’m sure you want to get on with your day. Once again, I’m glad you’re alright, Sally-Anne.” 

“Thanks, Professor,” she said. “And thanks again for teaching me the Shield Rune.” 

“It was my pleasure, Sally-Anne.” Bathsheda smiled. “Don’t think I’m finished teaching you about it yet. You’ve hardly scratched the surface of the rune’s capabilities.” 

Sally-Anne smiled back at Professor Babbling, then left her office. She wanted to learn everything she could about the rune, but for now, she was just tired. Sally-Anne decided that she needed rest before venturing further into the unknown. 

As always, her friends were waiting outside the office for her. 

“Did you have fun?” Rose asked. 

“Yeah, I did,” Sally-Anne replied. “Did you?” 

“Define ‘fun’,” Harry muttered. 

“We played with Draco!” Rose exclaimed. 

“‘Played’?” asked Sally-Anne. 

“He was taking his frustrations out on some Hufflepuffs,” Hermione said. 

“Has he fallen off the ceiling yet?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“He didn’t make it up there,” Ron said. 

“Professor McGonagall stepped in before things got bad,” Harry added. “Rose actually stood up for Malfoy.” 

Sally-Anne smiled. “That was nice of you, Rose.” 

“Thanks!” Rose replied. 

* * *

That night, as with most nights, Rose was roaming the castle by herself. Despite a few paintings telling her to return to her room before she got hurt, she was pleasantly skipping through the hallways. 

Unlike most nights, Rose wasn’t doing it to explore, but instead to find someone. She had never seen him during the day, except for once a few weeks ago, so she didn’t know where his office was. Sure, she could’ve asked, or used _discern location,_ but that took all the fun out of it. 

So instead, she was skipping through the hallways, enjoying the peace and quiet. Not the lack of other students, but the lack of an annoying voice hissing to itself the whole time. 

“You!” 

<Found him!> Rose declared to Reflectesalon as she turned around to face her target. “Salutations, Mr. Filch!” she whispered. 

“I got you this time!” Filch grumbled. “When I’m through with you, you’ll be wishing you was never born!” 

Rose simply smiled. “I can fix Mrs. Norris.” 

Argus ignored the girl. Obviously, it was a lie to trick him into dropping his guard. 

“No, it’s not,” the girl said. “You’ve seen me before, Mr. Filch. If I wanted to get away, I’d be gone by now. You’ve spent the past year believing that I wasn’t real. And you’ve spent the past few weeks without your cat. I promise I can fix her, just like I fixed Sally-Anne last Sunday. The staff must’ve told you.” 

Argus glared at the girl, his mouth in its usual snarl. She had a point; she had always disappeared when he caught her, so why hadn’t she already done that? If it were some cruel trick, he could just take her to the Headmaster. With proof that the girl was out after curfew, justice would be served. 

He grabbed her by her arm. “Come with me, you little wretch! If you’re lying, it’s straight to the ’eadmaster!” 

“Deal!” the girl whispered loudly, easily sliding out of his grasp. 

What surprised Argus was how calm the girl was. No, not calm, _happy_. Of course she was happy. These kids didn’t know the _meaning_ of misery! They had it so easy, running around, using their magic to destroy his castle, making his job difficult. 

“No offense, Mr. Filch,” the girl said. “But I _do_ know what misery is like. I’m sorry that you have to suffer, though. But it’s like my best friend Shadow says: ‘Whatever you can do with magic, I can do _without_ magic!’” 

Argus muttered something under his breath that he was glad none of the other staff could hear. 

“I’ve been through bad things too,” the girl said. “Not bad like ‘Oh no, that cute girl doesn’t notice me’, or ‘I haven’t studied for my exams’. Bad like people died. Bad like I understand that there are worse things than dying.” 

They arrived at his office, where Mrs. Norris was waiting, frozen forever. Argus had given up hope that she would be alright, despite what the other staff members had told him. Pompous wizards with their stupid magic. What did they know? Now there was this girl, pretending like she understood his pain. 

“I was going to make a deal with you, Mr. Filch, but I changed my mind,” she said, her wand in her hand. When had she drawn that? “I’ll fix Mrs. Norris, then you can turn me in to Professor Dumbledore if you’d like.” 

The girl waved her wand over Mrs. Norris, and sure enough, within a few seconds, the cat began to move again. She hissed and shrieked, spasming a little as she regained control of her petrified body. 

Argus shoved the girl out of his way and scooped up his precious cat. He held her tightly as she calmed down and began to purr. 

Rose smiled. She knew there was no convincing Mr. Filch that she understood him, but this was the next best thing. 

“Get outta ’ere!” Mr. Filch barked. “Get out– What’s you name?” 

“Rose,” she replied. “Rose Peta-Lorrum.” She curtsied. 

“Get outta ’ere, Peta-Lorrum, before I change my mind and take you to the ’eadmaster!” 

“Right away, Mr. Filch,” Rose said, slipping out of the Caretaker’s office. 

<Carolina, are you awake?>

After a few seconds, Rose heard a voice in her head. 

<I am now.>

<Thanks for the suggestion.>

<What suggestion?> Carolina asked sleepily. 

<Mr. Filch’s cat!>

<Right. Did you fix her?>

<Yup! Mr. Filch seems very happy about it.>

<Remember, that’s the important thing,> Carolina replied. <Your parents would be proud.>

<Thanks,> Rose pathed, smiling. <And you were right. Helping him did make me feel better. I needed that.>

Rose realized after talking to Hermione about her parents that she missed them. It wasn’t always a conscious thought, but when it popped to the surface, it made her miserable. So she did what she always did when it happened: she asked Carolina for help. 

Carolina’s response was to help people, just like Rose’s parents did. 

<Sk’lar’s my best friend, and you’re his little sister,> Carolina pathed. <I take care of everyone, Rose. Taking care of you isn’t out my way. Besides, if I didn’t help you, I’m worried Alice would.>

<I dunno,> Rose replied. <Killing acromantulas was awfully relaxing.>

<What did you kill?!>

<Good night, Carolina!>

Rose didn’t need to hear Carolina sigh to know she was. 

<Good night, Rose. Sweet dreams.>

* * *

As November slowly turned into December, nearly every student continued to worry about the Basilisk. As several of the Gryffindors believed that Sally-Anne would be able to stop the Basilisk, they had started traveling around in packs, with her at the head. At her insistence, Rose traveled in the center, to which most people agreed after they stopped believing she was the Heir of Slytherin, or stopped _caring_ about it. 

The only person that was more concerned about school than the Basilisk was Neville. Neville was becoming paranoid, thinking that some bully was around every corner, waiting to humiliate him. His gran wasn’t as worried as he thought she would be when he told her about the Basilisk in the school. The Basilisk had already attacked Sally-Anne, whom Neville thought was really nice, and he was terrified that it would go after him next, for no reason other than that his luck was just that bad. 

All Neville wanted to do was to go home, but his gran insisted that he stay at Hogwarts. She said it was alright, to get over it, and that Professor Dumbledore would keep him safe. 

The worst part of Hogwarts came every Thursday in the form of Potions class with Professor Snape. Neville was certain that the Potions Master was singling him out in class. Professor Snape glided around the room like a wraith, waiting for Neville to make a mistake. Never mind the Basilisk in the school, Neville was terrified of _Professor Snape_. 

There was only one Potions class during which he had felt comfortable, and that was when he had Rose as his partner. Usually she partnered with Hermione or Sally-Anne, but today Neville intercepted her before she got to class, hoping that she could help him and make class bearable. 

“Rose, would–” 

“Salutations, Neville!” 

“Ah!” Neville exclaimed, startled by the crimson-haired girl’s sudden outburst. 

“I’m sorry if I startled you,” Rose said. “Would you like to work together today?” 

Neville wasn’t sure how she knew he was going to ask that, but he wasn’t going to wait around for someone else to grab her. 

“Yeah, how’d you know I was going to ask that?” Neville asked. 

“My imaginary friend can read minds,” Rose replied as if it were obvious. 

“Okay,” Neville said, familiar with the girl’s odd ramblings. 

Neville knew Rose was strange, but he didn’t care about that. She wasn’t afraid of _anything_. It wasn’t just him that was afraid of Professor Snape, even if it were only he that was _terrified_ of the Potions Master, but Rose wasn’t afraid of Professor Snape. In fact, she always _smiled_ at him. Neville couldn’t think of why anyone would smile at Professor Snape, but _she_ did. 

Neville was certain that he’d do better in Potions if he could concentrate on the assignments. Outside of class he understood well enough what he had to do. Inside of class, he was so terrified of Professor Snape that he couldn’t concentrate on his work. 

“Today, class, you will be brewing the Swelling Solution,” Professor Snape said in his dark, monotone voice. “I’m _sure_ you can all handle it without inflating your heads to the size of watermelons.” 

Neville started leafing through his book for the right page. Had Professor Snape said the page yet? Neville hadn’t been paying attention. 

“Two scoops of dried nettles, three puffer-fish eyes, and a bat spleen,” Rose recited. “Page 104.” 

Neville glanced at her, then flipped to page 104. Sure enough, there were the instructions to make the Swelling Solution. He propped open his book and the pair got to work making the potion. 

“Check the mortar to make sure it’s clean,” Rose said. “I’ll look over our scoop. Remember, if you don’t know what it is, it could ruin the potion.” 

“Right,” Neville said. He checked the ceramic mortar, then once more just to be sure. He saw Professor Snape glaring at the pair from across the room and froze up with fear. 

“Neville, focus,” Rose said. “Remember, he only has power over you while you’re in this room. Outside, he’s only allowed to take points from you if you do something wrong, and you’re a good kid.” 

Neville snapped out of his state and returned to work. Sure enough, there was something on their mortar that, had it not been for Rose, he would’ve missed. 

“What’s that?” Neville asked. 

Rose looked at it, then carefully took the mortar out of his hands. The objects in question were a few black specks, but those black specks could destroy the potion before it was started. 

Rose mumbled something, then held the mortar up to her ear. 

“Dried nettles,” she replied. “Someone didn’t clean this very well after their assignment.” She turned to Professor Snape. “Professor Snape!” 

Neville nearly went pale. This was the other reason that he was failing Potions. They weren’t allowed to use their wands in class, so whenever he needed to clean something, Neville needed to tell Professor Snape so he could get permission for a new one. This lead to Neville typically ignoring the problem and hoping everything worked out for the best. 

It never did. 

“What, Peta-Lorrum?” Professor Snape growled. 

“Someone didn’t clean this well after the last class,” Rose said, holding up the mortar. 

“And?” 

“We need a new one,” Rose said. “You don’t let us use our wands, and all equipment should be cleaned thoroughly or–” 

_BANG!_

Professor Snape and Neville both looked towards the source of the sound, only to find that Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan had nearly blown themselves up. 

“Or that will happen,” Rose said. “Good timing.” 

“You know where the sink is, Peta-Lorrum,” Professor Snape replied, then turned to go clean up the mess his students had made. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he forgot that he told us to ask him before using the sink,” Rose said. She shrugged. “Oh well!” 

The pair continued to brew their potion, which Neville thought was easy with Rose guiding him. They crushed the nettles and puffer-fish eyes into a powder and added it to their cauldron. As always, Rose double-checked everything they did, catching mistakes before they could happen. 

“Alright, now wave your wand over the brew,” Neville read from the book. 

“Go for it,” Rose replied. 

“What?” 

“It’s easy,” Rose said. “You should give it a shot.” 

“Okay,” Neville said. He hesitantly drew his wand, expecting Professor Snape to jump on him at any second. When nothing happened, he shakily moved his hand over to their cauldron. Before he could start, Rose’s hand shot out and grabbed his wrist. 

“Fluid motions,” she said. “Like this.” She carefully moved his hand over the cauldron, keeping his wand steady as she did. 

The potion began to simmer in the cauldron, gently bubbling and turning from green, to purple, back to green. 

“Perfect!” Rose said, releasing Neville’s wrist. “Excellent work, Neville!” 

“Thanks,” Neville said, turning to the book. “Now what?” 

“Now we let it sit for about an hour,” Rose said. “It’ll oscillate between bright green and purple, but when it starts to quickly move back and forth between them, that’s when we add the bat spleen.” During her explanation, Rose patted herself on the head. “Now we clean up and go to lunch.” 

“Did you just pat yourself on the head?” Neville asked. 

“Yup!” 

“Why?” 

“I do that when I use big words!” Rose said. “I started patting myself on the back, but I like to pat my head more!” 

Neville blinked. As much as he admired Rose’s courage, he still found her to be strange. “Okay.” 

Together they cleaned up their work space while the potion continued to simmer. 

After they returned from lunch, Neville asked, “How are you so brave all the time, Rose?” 

“Practice,” Rose replied. “Professor Snape isn’t nearly as scary as some people out of school. Out there, people aren’t going to be nice to you. Actually, this is good practice. Remember, the worst thing Professor Snape can do is yell at you. He can’t hurt you.” 

“It seems like he will sometimes,” Neville said. 

“Nah, he can’t. He’d be sacked, and he knows it.” Rose noticed the glum look on her new friend’s face. “Don’t worry. I had the same feeling when I left Arcrel.” 

“What’s Arcrel?” 

“My old school,” Rose replied. “I was so scared that I wouldn’t leave my big sister’s side. After a few weeks, she told me that I needed to find my own way. So, we parted ways for a while. That was one of the scariest nights of my life, but I woke up the next morning, and carried on. You’ve just got to take it one step at a time.” 

Neville nodded. He still didn’t think he would ever be as brave as Rose, no matter how many steps he took. 

“Neville, let me ask you something that my sister asks me,” Rose said. “Worse things have happened, right?” 

Neville nodded again. Worse things had certainly happened to him. He wasn’t an orphan, but he might as well be. 

“That’s what Alice told me. She reminded me that the worst was over, and that I would be just fine.” 

Rose glanced over and noticed that their potion was beginning to flicker back and forth between green and purple. 

“Life’s a lot less scary when you remember that you’ve survived worse,” Rose said, tossing the bat spleen into their cauldron. “Just take a deep breath, put one foot in front of the other, and do what you’ve got to do.” 

She stirred their cauldron four times, as per their instructions, then turned down the heat on their cauldron. 

“Alright, you’re up,” Rose said. “Wave your wand like I showed you, and we’re finished.” 

Neville took a deep breath, relaxed, and waved his wand over the cauldron. 

The potion stopped changing color, and faded to a dull green. 

“See?” Rose said, smiling. “Nothing to it.” 

“Thanks,” Neville said, smiling. 

“No problem,” Rose replied. “Just remember that Professor Snape isn’t that scary, and you’ll keep doing well. Besides, he and I are best friends!” 

“Really?” Neville asked. 

“In Rose’s mind, yes,” Hermione said, walking by them with the potion she and Sally-Anne made. “In the real world, Professor Snape may have a different opinion.” 

Rose scooped up some of the potion with a vial and brought it up to Professor Snape. 

He narrowed his eyes as he inspected it. 

“I’m in shock that Longbottom didn’t get you two blown up,” he said. 

“Nah, he did well!” Rose exclaimed. “Besides, I’ve been blown up before. It’s not _that_ bad.” 

“Mhm,” Professor Snape said as the last of the students finished their potions. 

To everyone’s relief, Professor Snape let them out early, once their potions were complete. As Rose returned with the rest of the Gryffindors to Gryffindor Tower, she let her mind wander back to her days at Arcrel. She remembered leaving, and Alice telling her not to worry. 

_The worst is over, Rosie,_ Alice had said. 

Being careful not to let her smile falter, Rose let a wave of sadness wash over her. The worst hadn’t been over; it had yet to begin. She just hoped her friends didn’t have to suffer the same fate she did. 

_The worst is never over, because worse things can always happen. The only good bad things do is remind you how unprepared you are. Figure out what went wrong and fix it so it doesn’t happen again._

Rose grinned, happy to know that Shadow always knew just what to say to cheer her up. 

* * *

Late that night, after everyone except Rose had gone to bed, Hermione pulled out a letter she had received at the end of November. She wasn’t sure why she kept rereading it. It wasn’t as if there were some hidden message in it that changed her fate. It was as clear as day what was going to happen to her. 

_Dear Hermione,_

_We’re sorry that it’s taken us so long to reach this decision, but we’ve come to an agreement. We’ll let you stay at Hogwarts until Christmas, but after you come home, we want you to stay here for the remainder of the school year. If you want, we can set up a transfer to Beauxbatons for the start of next term after we’ve all had some time to recover._

_We don’t think it’s safe at Hogwarts anymore. Between the psychotic professor last year and the monster this year, we’d feel better if you were away from that place. We’re sorry, Sweety, but we just don’t want to worry about whether we’re going to see you again. Every time an owl flies into our house, we’re afraid it’s coming to tell us that something’s happened to you. We can’t take it anymore._

_We know you’ve made friends, and you and Rose have both informed us that Rose can handle the Basilisk. Even though this may be true, it’s still too dangerous at Hogwarts. You’ll still be able to write to your friends, and we’re sure they can come visit us. But we don’t want you to stay at Hogwarts any longer._

_Love_ , 

_Mum and Dad_

Hermione looked around the room. She couldn’t see well in the dark, but she didn’t see Rose, and was pretty sure everyone else was asleep. She lied down in her bed, and when she was certain no one could hear, she softly cried. Hermione didn’t want to leave Hogwarts, but she had no choice. Her friends didn’t know yet, because she didn’t know how to tell them. 

She didn’t care that she could make new friends; she liked _these_ friends. Sally-Anne and Harry understood her, even though Ron was stubborn, he was actually clever, and while Rose was probably a lunatic, Rose was _her_ lunatic! Hermione didn’t want to leave all of them behind, but there was no convincing her parents that she should be allowed to stay. 

“What do I do?” she whispered. “What do I do?” 


	19. It's Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Christmas happens, and much merriment is had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** Happy Christmas to all, and to all, J.K Rowling owns Harry Potter.

About halfway into December, Harry realized that he had a problem. It was a nice, simple, _normal_ problem, that in no way involved the Basilisk or Voldemort 

“Hermione, I need your help,” Harry said to his friend one night when he, Ron, Hermione, Sally-Anne, and Ginny were all sitting alone in the common room. 

“You may not copy my homework,” Hermione said, not looking up from her book. 

“Not that,” Harry said, skipping past the part where he had never asked to copy Hermione’s homework. “What should I get Rose for Christmas?” 

“I was just going to get her some Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans,” Ron said from the other side of the couch. “It’s what I do when I can’t think of what else to get someone.” 

“Rose can’t eat,” Hermione replied. “Her digestive system doesn’t work.” 

“What?” Harry asked. 

“Your digestive system is–” 

“I know what it is, but how does hers not work?” 

“It’s part of _veil of undeath_.” 

“That’s rubbish!” Ron exclaimed. “How does she go without eating?” 

“I don’t think she cares,” Hermione replied. “Besides, she can turn it off if she wants. She’s still got a _ring of sustenance_ like I have, so she wouldn’t need to eat _anyway_.” 

“I’m getting her another book,” Sally-Anne said. “She really seemed to like the Grimm Brothers book I got her, so I thought another one with stories would be a good idea.” 

“Well that’s wonderful and all, but now _I_ don’t know what to get her!” Ron said. “I feel like I should get her _something_!” 

“Get who something?” Neville asked, climbing through the portal. He looked around at the empty common room. “Where is everyone?” 

Harry shrugged. He had the same question. Their group had a bad habit of running into trouble. Maybe people just didn’t want to be around them. 

“How’s your head?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“Much better, thanks,” Neville replied. 

“I still don’t see how that entire stack of books managed to fall on you,” Harry said. “They weren’t that close to you.” 

“It’s nothing new. I screw up charms all the time.” 

“The boys were just thinking about what to get Rose for Christmas,” Sally-Anne said. “Want to help?” 

Harry wasn’t sure how helpful Neville could be. Neville never did anything right, no matter what it was. 

“I see Rose drawing all the time during History of Magic. Unicorns, angels, elves…” 

“Maybe we could all split some drawing supplies,” Ginny suggested. 

Harry had almost forgotten she was still there. She blushed when he looked at her, but didn’t run off like every other time he did. 

“She’s got to be almost to the end of her sketchpad by now, right?” she asked. “If she draws whenever she gets bored during History of Magic, then she must be drawing the entire class.” 

“That’s a good idea, Ginny,” Sally-Anne said. 

“Great, but where are we gonna get any of that stuff?” Ron asked. 

“Where were you planning on buying Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans?” Hermione asked. 

“I was going to have my parents send me some,” Ron replied. “But I don’t know if they’ll send any of that stuff.” 

“So we split it,” Ginny said again. “She’ll need a sketchpad, probably some paints or something… Wait, she doesn’t use paint, does she?” 

“No, I think she’s using some sort of colored pencils,” Sally-Anne said. “It almost looks like chalk.” 

“Knowing her, it probably is,” Hermione said, diverting her attention back to her book. 

“Why don’t we split it?” Neville suggested. 

“Mum might send stuff if we both ask,” Ginny said. “She goes to the market all the time. There must be something there, right?” 

“Gran would probably be so happy about me having friends, she probably wouldn’t mind getting a sketchpad,” Neville said. “But I haven’t got any money to pay for it.” 

Everyone looked at one another, trying to think of their next move. Harry caught Sally-Anne looking at him. 

“ _You have,_ ” she mouthed to him. 

“I… I have,” Harry said. “If you get your gran to pay for it, I can send her money to pay her back. We’ll call it even at that.” 

“Are you sure?” Neville asked. “I hate to not pay for half of it.” 

“Really, it’s fine,” Harry said. “I’m… I’m fine.” 

Harry got enough attention without telling anyone that his parents had been rich and left him all their money. As Harry thought about it, he realized he hadn’t told anyone, apart from maybe Ron. How did Sally-Anne know? 

“Speaking of Rose, where is she?” Neville asked. 

“Hermione?” Ron asked, looking expectantly at his friend. 

“Making Christmas presents,” Hermione replied. “Which will hopefully _not_ come to life and breathe fire on command.” 

“She’s not serious, is she?” Neville asked. 

“With luck, she’ll get bored or something,” Ron said. “I’m still surprised she hasn’t started some sort of snow war with anyone.” 

“‘Snow war’?” Neville asked. 

“Rose got confused about what a ‘snowball fight’ was,” Sally-Anne replied. “Hopefully, making presents will keep Rose occupied long enough to distract her from causing trouble.” 

“We can hope,” Ron muttered. 

“Rose doesn’t cause _that_ much trouble, does she?” Neville asked. 

“I think it depends on her mood,” Sally-Anne said. “Although, I haven’t really seen her angry before, so I’m not sure what she’s like.” 

“ _I_ have,” Harry said, remembering a few months ago when he had snapped at Sally-Anne. 

“She doesn’t go looking for trouble,” Hermione said. “She goes looking for _entertainment_. Honestly, you’re all acting like she’s a horrible person. Sure, she’s a handful at times, but she’s the one keeping us _safe_. The moment the Basilisk moves out of the Chamber of Secrets, Rose will know and beat it down again. The only reason she doesn’t go kill it now is because she doesn’t know what else is in the Chamber of Secrets. She doesn’t want to walk in blind.” 

“How do we know that she won’t come after _us_ for entertainment?” Ron asked. 

“Ronald!” Sally-Anne shouted. “That’s a horrible thing to say!” 

“You sound _way_ too much like Mum,” Ginny said, her eyes wide. 

“If she does, Reflectesalon is under orders to inform her brother,” Hermione explained, for once not getting angry at Ron. “Once he finds out, he’ll inform Carolina and their uncle, and Rose gets an earful from Carolina, an endless, boring lecture from her uncle, and apparently her brother’s got this way of expressing his disappointment that can guilt anyone into apologizing.” 

“Wow,” Neville said. 

“Side note,” Hermione added. “Rose says Carolina’s a lot like Professor McGonagall when she’s angry.” 

“That’s terrifying,” Ginny said. 

“See?” Sally-Anne said. “We’ve got nothing to worry about.” 

“I’m a little worried about how well-prepared Hermione was just now,” Harry said. “Like she’s thought about this before.” 

“Since coming to Hogwarts, my intellect has been effectively doubled,” Hermione explained. “I think about lots of things these days.” 

“Uh huh,” Harry said. 

* * *

Rose finished her friends’ presents a few days before Sally-Anne, Luna, and Hermione left to return home. Once again, Ron was staying at Hogwarts for the holidays, and Harry wouldn’t leave the castle for anything. Rose had already said farewell to Luna, and Sally-Anne was bringing her own belongings to the Common Room. That gave Rose the prime chance to talk to Hermione alone, something she had been trying to do for weeks. Something that she had been unable to do because of the aforementioned presents. 

“You’ve hardly packed,” Rose said. 

“I know,” Hermione replied. “I… I’m afraid that when I board the train to go home, I won’t be coming back.” 

Hermione wasn’t sure how she was expecting Rose to react, but she wasn’t expecting Rose to look sad. 

“I know,” Rose said. “I’ve known since you got the letter from your parents. Ref told me exactly what it said a few days later. You memorized it, and it’s been on your mind every day since.” 

Hermione sighed. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you, Rose. I know you hate secrets, but–” 

“I don’t _hate_ them, but Carolina says a team should communicate.” Rose gave a crooked smile. “You didn’t know how. I’ve got the same problem with some of my stories.” Rose glanced down at the floor. “Maybe it’s for the best.” 

“What?” Hermione gasped. “Of course it isn’t! I don’t _want_ to leave! Even with the Basilisk, I _like_ it here!” 

“Hermione, I don’t want you to leave either,” Rose said. “You’re my best friend, but honestly, I can’t keep everyone safe all the time. It’s safer for you literally everywhere else _except_ Hogwarts.” 

“Well, then,” Hermione said. “If I can’t always count on you, then I’ll just have to keep myself safe here, won’t I? I mean, it’s only a basilisk, right? I’m sure you’ve survived worse than that. It’s not a dragon.” 

“That’s the spirit!” Rose exclaimed, grinning. She placed her hands on Hermione’s shoulders, a difficult feat given that Hermione was growing and Rose wasn’t. “Hermione, you are the smartest person I’ve met here, save Professor Dumbledore. No offence.” 

“None taken.” 

“I have complete confidence that you’ll devise a solution to this,” Rose said. “But before you go, I’ve got two things for you. The first is this.” She handed Hermione a package wrapped in red paper. It was small and squishy, which meant it would fit inside Hermione’s trunk without a problem. 

“It’s not going to come to life and breathe fire, is it?” Hermione asked, taking the package. 

“Nah, that was _way_ too much work,” Rose said. “I thought about it, but there was no way to make it work and be worth it. Besides, I made a bunch of those. It wasn’t feasible to animate _all_ of them.” 

Hermione patted her friend on the shoulder. “Good job using the word ‘feasible’ correctly.” 

Rose beamed. “Thanks!” 

“What’s the other thing?” Hermione asked, placing the package inside her trunk. 

“Information,” Rose replied. “I don’t change my hair because Dad always said it made me look pretty.” Rose smiled. “Some Dwarven children were picking on me about it, and Dad said they were just afraid because I was different.” Her smile broadened. “I stayed away from them, unlike Carolina. In the same situation, Saint Nature went back to the children that had picked on her and told them…” 

Rose’s voice trailed off and for the second time that day, Hermione saw her friend’s perpetual smile falter. 

“Rose?” Hermione asked. 

“Just remembering the time I first heard that story,” Rose said. She smiled again. “I’ll tell you another time.” 

“I don’t know if there will be another time.” 

“Of course there will. If not, then I can’t tell you all my stories.” Rose counted on her fingers. “I’ve got a bunch of stories to tell. I’ve already told you one of them. One of them’s even a happy story!” 

Hermione smiled. “I’m glad you’ve got more stories like the one you told me last month.” 

“Me too. But don’t worry, Hermione. Carolina always says that every story’s got a happy ending.” 

“Not every story,” Hermione said, shaking her head sadly. 

Rose nodded. “ _Every_ story. It’s just that not all the characters make it to the end.” She grinned. “But don’t worry. I promise that we’ll see the end of this one together.” 

“Alright, Rose,” Hermione said. “I trust you.” 

“And I you, Hermione.” Rose smiled. “See you soon.” 

Rose helped her friend pack and together they brought Hermione’s belongings down to the Common Room. After a heartfelt farewell, Rose watched her friends leave. 

After they were gone, Rose slipped away so she could concentrate on talking to someone. 

<Carolina, I need your help. Eom.>

* * *

The night before Christmas, Dripty the house-elf received a surprise visitor. It wasn’t unheard of for house-elves to receive Christmas presents, but, since they were the ones that distributed the gifts for the students, they all tried to get some rest before the big events. It was common knowledge that their visitor didn’t _need_ to sleep, so Dripty wasn’t too surprised by her sudden appearance. 

“Happy Snowy Time, Dripty!” 

Dripty eyed the small package presented to him with suspicion. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate the gift, but he was concerned that he was being tricked into accepting clothes. 

“It’s alright,” Miss Rose replied. “It’s not clothes! You can open it now, if you want!” 

“Is Miss Rose being sure it is not being clothes?” Dripty asked. “Dripty is not wanting to be free.” 

“I know,” Miss Rose replied, holding out the package. “I promise it’s not.” She tilted her head. “Well, I guess that depends on how you define clothes. I mean, Bowie can wear anything as a hat. Does that count? Who decides?” 

Dripty slowly opened the red package, finding a blue seashell inside. He slowly picked it up and turned it over, although he dropped it when the seashell flashed for a second. The seashell looked ordinary, although it sparkled faintly when Dripty held it to the light. Through the seashell was looped a black cord, forming a ring just wide enough to fit over his head. 

“What is it being?” Dripty asked. 

“It’s called a _condition conch_ ,” Miss Rose replied. “Hermione named it. It allows us to communicate, no matter where you are. I’ll also know how you’re doing so long as you keep it with you. All you need to do is hold it, concentrate on me, and think, and I’ll hear you.” She motioned to the cord. “I figured you didn’t have any pockets, so I added the cord so you can wear it around your neck!” 

“Thank you, Miss Rose!” exclaimed Dripty as he slipped the seashell over his head. The cord bent his ears down as he pushed it onto his head. They wobbled into place as he adjusted his new necklace. “Should Dripty have been getting you something?” 

“Nope!” Rose replied, glad that her house-elf friend enjoyed the gift. “Just keep up the good work!” 

“Dripty will!” Dripty exclaimed with a smile. 

Rose turned to leave, then added, “Just so you know, it’s attuned to you. That means only you can use it now. That’s what that flash was.” She smiled sheepishly. “Sorry if it startled you.” 

“Dripty is being most grateful, Miss Rose,” Dripty said. “Miss Rose is not to be worrying.” 

Rose smiled, then vanished from sight. 

* * *

Christmas morning came, but Hermione was feeling no better than she had when she left Hogwarts. Her parents had made it clear that they didn’t want her to return to Hogwarts until they had some sort of assurance that she would be safe. Unfortunately for Hermione, “Rose doesn’t let me out of her sight” wasn’t a good argument. 

Dan and Emma knew their daughter was moping when they woke up Christmas morning on their own, without assistance from their daughter. 

“That’s not good,” Emma said. “Why don’t we go in and talk to her? It’s Christmas.” 

“I would hate for it to be ruined for her,” Dan agreed. 

The two entered their daughter’s room to find Hermione sitting on her floor next to her bed, clutching a deep blue rucksack to her chest. The rucksack had the initials “HG” embossed in big, indigo letters on the side facing them. Given that neither Emma nor Dan recognized the object, they figured it must have been a present. 

“Starting without us?” her father asked. 

“It’s from Rose,” Hermione said quietly. 

“She got you a rucksack?” asked her mum, sitting down beside her daughter. 

“Technically, it’s a haversack,” Hermione replied. “Only one strap, and it’s bigger on the inside.” 

“Of course,” her mum replied. If someone had told her that a few years ago, she wouldn’t have believed them. Now, her family owned a golem made of duct tape that helped with the chores. Emma was willing to believe almost anything these days. 

“Sweety, you know why we don’t want you returning to Hogwarts,” Dan said gently, sitting to his daughter’s left. 

“I’m not going to die,” Hermione said. “Even if the Basilisk attacks me, Rose will know _immediately_ thanks to the _condition conch_ , and she can get to anywhere in the castle in seconds.” 

“Hermione, you said that if you look into a basilisk’s eyes, then you die,” Emma said. “I don’t think Rose can fix that.” 

“She can, so long as she’s there with me,” Hermione said. “She said death’s not as big a deal in her world as it is here. So long as she gets to me within six seconds, she can bring me back.” 

“I know Rose can do miraculous things, but I’m not sure even _she_ can–” Dan started. 

“Rose isn’t lying!” Hermione shouted. When she realized how loudly she had just shouted, she curled up into a ball and buried her head in her legs. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled into her knees. 

“Relax,” her dad said. “I didn’t mean to imply that Rose was lying, I just… six seconds is an awfully small amount of time.” 

“Even if she is right there with you,” her mum added. 

Hermione didn’t say anything, but slowly picked up her head. She snuck her hand into her pocket and grasped the _condition conch_. 

A moment later, a burst of rose petals appeared out of nowhere in her room, out from which emerged Rose. 

“ _That’s_ how fast Rose can get to me,” Hermione said. “The moment I’m hurt–” 

“I know about it,” Rose said, sitting on the floor. “Salutations and Happy Snowy Time!” She turned to Hermione. “Did you like the haversack?” 

“I’ll never leave my books at home again,” Hermione said, forcing a smile. 

“Good to hear!” Rose exclaimed. “And thank you for the puzzle!” 

“You’re welcome,” Hermione said softly. 

“Happy Christmas, Rose,” Emma said, assuming that was what the crimson-haired girl had meant by “Happy Snowy Time”. 

“Girls, please try to see this from our perspective,” Dan said. “There’s a monster that could kill you at any time it wants, and it could be lurking around any corner. All you would need to do would be to look up and see it, and that would be it.” 

“ _Blindsight_ out to 60 feet,” Rose said. “I’ll pick it up before it gets close enough for us to see it.” 

“Rose, we know you think you can do this, but–” Emma began. 

“Is that your only argument?” Rose asked. 

“I’m sorry?” Emma asked. 

“If I could stop its gaze from affecting Hermione, would you let her return to Hogwarts?” 

“We’d have to discuss it, but I don’t think–” Dan started. 

“Alright, then let’s do it,” Rose said, taking Hermione’s hand in hers. 

Hermione suddenly felt her finger getting warm. When she looked down, she saw her ring glowing. 

“There,” Rose said, looking a little tired. 

“What did you just do?” Hermione asked, a little concerned about her friend. 

“Continuous _death ward_ ,” Rose replied. She smiled weakly, then turned to Mr. and Mrs. Hermione’s Mum and Dad. “So long as she doesn’t remove that ring, your daughter is immune to the Basilisk’s stare.” 

“What?!” all three of them exclaimed. 

“Not so loud,” Rose said quietly. 

“Are you alright?” Hermione asked. 

“Modifying magic items with _Serendipity_ costs XP equivalent to twice what it would normally cost to craft the item,” Rose said. “ _Death ward_ is a fourth-level Cleric spell that lasts one minute per level, bringing the base price to 112,000 gp, cut by two for only usable by you, so it becomes 56,000. The XP cost of an item is 1/25th the base price, so 2,240 XP.” 

“You just used 4,480 XP to make sure I wouldn’t be hurt?” Hermione asked. “How much have you _got_?” 

“That I can burn?” Rose asked. “After that, a little over 1500. Normally I would’ve used my _thought bottle_ to lessen that, but I was going for dramatic effect.” 

“You didn’t have to do that,” Hermione said. 

“Yes, I did,” Rose said, her normal energy returning to her. “You’re my best friend, Hermione. You’re worth it. Besides, I’ll get it back after I kill the Basilisk.” 

“So, what _exactly_ did that do?” Dan asked. The parent in him wanted to know how it was supposed to keep his daughter safe, while the scientist in him wanted to know what else it would do. 

“Hermione is immune to death effects,” Rose explained. “That means the Basilisk’s stare. She’s immune to it, and if I’m correct, she’s also immune to the killing curse. From what I’ve read, it was Voldie’s spell of choice for killing people. Anything else that specifically causes instant death should also fall into that category. The only one of which I am certain is the Basilisk’s stare.” 

Emma and Dan took a moment to process this. If Rose was right, then their daughter was now protected from the biggest threats to her safety. 

_If Rose was right._

“Okay,” Emma said. “Let’s assume you’re right, and it will protect her.” 

“I am,” Rose said. 

“What if she’s attacked?” Dan asked. “Even if it can’t kill her by looking at her, won’t she still be in danger?” 

“But once that happens, I can just call Rose,” Hermione said. 

“Or Dripty,” Rose added. 

“Or Dripty,” Hermione said. “Wait, Dripty?” 

“Who’s Dripty?” Emma asked. 

“My favorite house-elf!” Rose exclaimed. “I gave him my second _condition conch_ so I could communicate with him. The house-elves can apparate within the castle, so they’re the prime candidates for messengers. Also, he and I are friends, so being able to know how he’s doing will be helpful.” 

“So I can just call Rose or Dripty,” Hermione said. “If Rose isn’t available for some reason, Dripty can bring the teachers.” 

“What if the seashell is knocked out of her hands?” Dan asked the small girl. 

“I detect that she’s been taken off the network, and I go to help her,” Rose replied. “I can restore her health instantly if she’s hurt.” 

Emma and Dan exchanged glances. They didn’t like it, but they knew the girls had a point. They couldn’t argue with Rose’s magic, as they had both seen it work time and time again. For God’s sake, she just appeared in their daughter’s bedroom. 

“We aren’t going to make a decision now, but we will think about it,” Emma said. 

“That doesn’t mean we’ll change our minds, but that does mean there is a possibility we will,” Dan added. “Rose, it was nice seeing you, but I think you’d best get going.” 

“May I please see Ana first?” Rose asked. 

“Of course,” Emma replied, standing up. “Hermione, we’re going to head downstairs. Come and join us when you’re ready.” 

Both of Hermione’s parents left, leaving Hermione and Rose alone. 

“Thanks,” Hermione said. “Did you really–” 

“ _Death ward_ , just like I said,” Rose replied. “There are three curses called the Unforgivable Curses. It sounds like they’re the big three of dark magic, but I can stop them all. That will stop the big one, which, from what it sounds, is a no-save death effect ranged touch attack spell, which is unheard of in my world. That’s not just OP, that’s _banned_. You don’t get something like that, not without giving your opponent a chance to stop it, and no smart person uses fort-save-or-die spells. That’s just asking for trouble.” 

“Why’s that?” 

“It all comes down to your opponent’s fortitude save, which is going to be a lot higher than the DC for your spell when you start getting fort-save-or-die spells. That means that in order to make it work, a caster has to increase the DC of her spells, which means she’ll have to put actual resources into it. Once she puts that much effort into it, she won’t be good for much else. Then, she can go around and kill anything she likes, but no one’s going to travel with her, and she’ll die once she meets something with a fort save she wasn’t expecting.” 

“Uh huh,” Hermione said, following the logic well enough. 

“That’s why Sk’lar doesn’t typically use spells that require a saving throw, or if he does, it’ll be a spell like _glitterdust_ that still does something even when your opponent makes his save. In the case of _glitterdust_ , your opponent is covered in glitter, which cancels out any invisibility. Well, it renders it useless.” 

“Speaking of your brother, I’ve got a question,” Hermione said, holding up the _condition conch_. “Is this on the same network as your friends are?” 

“Yes, but I’d rather you not talk to them,” Rose said. 

“Why not?” 

“I’m not sure that I’m ready for you to meet them yet.” 

Hermione wasn’t sure she understood, but she wasn’t about to argue with Rose over something so silly. _Especially_ after the crimson-haired girl had just made her immune to the single most dangerous spell in existence. “Okay, Rose.” She smiled. “Happy Christmas.” 

“Happy Snowy Time!” 

With that, Rose vanished. 

* * *

Each of Rose’s friends found similar haversacks to the one Hermione received. Harry received a black haversack, Ron a red one, and Sally-Anne an emerald one. Each of their haversacks had their initials on them in gold letters. 

Rose even made them for Ginny and Neville; the former found an orange haversack with yellow letters, and the latter a dark green haversack with black letters. 

What everyone found most interesting was that unlike similarly enchanted bags, the weight of the haversacks didn’t change. Almost as equally interesting was no matter how much anyone put into the bags, one could always find anything in a few seconds. 

“This is brilliant!” Ron said after he had finished shoving all of his school supplies inside the haversack. “I might just carry this around with me all the time! I mean, why not?” 

“That’s what I do!” Rose exclaimed, not removing her eyes from her new book. 

Sally-Anne got Rose a book called _The Complete Adventures of Sherlock Holmes_. In her note, the blonde-haired girl had said that she thought Rose would like it, since the main character reminded Sally-Anne of Shadow. Rose was a few pages into the book and agreed with her already. Sherlock could reach conclusions that made him seem like a Diviner, which is exactly what Shadow did. 

From Hermione, Rose had received another puzzle, this time a series of interlocking parts that were supposed to be formed into a specific shape. Despite having other similar puzzles, Rose didn’t have anything _identical_ to it, and that was the important part. 

From Ron, Harry, Ginny, and Neville, she had received a new sketchpad and drawing supplies. Apparently, none of them had known what else to get her, as most of them defaulted to sweets and knew Rose couldn’t eat. Although according to Reflectesalon, they hadn’t known that a few weeks ago. 

As much she loved all the gifts, Rose’s favorite gift came from her surrogate little sister, Luna. Like Rose, Little Moon was skilled at drawing, and had drawn Rose a picture of Rose, Sk’lar, Shadow, Carolina, Bowie, Alice, and Oz. Rose was in the center, grinning happily, with her left arm around a reluctant Shadow. On her right was Sk’lar, and behind them were Alice and Uncle Oz; Uncle Oz stood to Rose’s right, and Alice to her left. On the other side of Sk’lar was Carolina, who looked just as kind as Rose remembered her. To Shadow’s other side was Bowie, grinning his toothy grin that was almost too big for his face. 

The moment Rose got the picture, she _teleported_ to Luna’s house, and gave her friend a big hug. 

“Thank you, Little Moon,” Rose said. 

“You’re welcome, Rose,” Luna replied. “Thank you for the haversack. I like the silver and sky blue.” 

“I’m glad,” Rose said, grinning. 

“Also, it’s smaller on the outside than the inside,” Luna said. “I think I’ll find a lot of use for that. Are you going to be staying?” 

“Nope, I just came by to give you a hug,” Rose said. “I’ll see you in a few weeks!” 

“Farewell for now, Rose.” 

And for what would become the second of three times in the past 24 hours, Rose disappeared, leaving rose petals in her wake. 

* * *

As he had the previous Christmas, Albus found a gift wrapped in red paper on his desk that morning. If it had been any other student, Albus would have wondered how she got into his office, but he knew Rose used that spell of hers. 

The Headmaster opened the present, finding a silver book inside, along with a note. On the cover of the book was an emblem of a red star with a black hammer across it. The book was entitled _Ages of Arcrel_. 

Albus was growing tired of receiving books, because most books he had either already read, or already knew what they had to say. But he knew the name “Arcrel” from listening to Rose, so he knew this one was different. 

Albus picked up the note that accompanied the book and read it. 

_Dear Professor Dumbledore_ , 

_You always seem interested in my stories, so here’s the best one of all: The story of Arcrel. I used a spell from my plane (the one where everything makes sense) to copy my copy of the book. My uncle gave me mine before he even knew my parents’ names. He said he saw something in me he liked._

_Anyway, I know you’re tired of getting books for Snowy Time, but this one’s different. This is one of the best books ever written._

_Sincerely_ , 

_Rose_

Albus smiled. He almost felt bad about never getting the girl anything. To be fair, he _was_ allowing her to stay in his school after any other student would’ve been expelled long ago. Perhaps that evened it out. 

* * *

Albus wasn’t the only professor at Hogwarts to receive a gift from Rose. Sitting on Severus Snape’s desk was another present from his “best friend”. After carefully unwrapping it, Severus found a black belt with 10 pouches in it. Along with it was the obligatory note. 

_Dear Professor Snape_ , 

_I know you hate it when I get you presents, but I think you’ll like this one. This belt is a masterwork potion belt. It holds up to ten potions, all of which are easily accessible at a moment’s notice. I don’t know that you carry potions around with you, but this should make it much easier if you do._

_Your Friend_ , 

_Rose_

Severus stared at the belt, then the letter, then back at the belt. He didn’t _need_ something to help him carry veritaserum or its antidote (both of which he kept on hand at all times), but it wouldn’t hurt. Maybe some calming draught, a few poisons, maybe some flashing fizz, a potion that created a bright flash of light when it came into contact with air. With a basilisk around, some crackling oil wouldn’t go amiss. He still wasn’t sure that the belt wasn’t about to animate itself and attack him, but it wasn’t bad. Also, it was black, so that was a plus. 

* * *

Hermione sat down with her parents that evening. She knew it was time for their final decision, but she had found it easier to enjoy Christmas knowing that she had a chance of returning to Hogwarts. 

“We’ve thought it over all day,” her mum began, “and we’ve reached a decision.” 

“We’ll let you go back to Hogwarts,” her dad said, “but before you start celebrating, these are the rules.” 

“First and foremost, Rose is to stay by your side at all times,” her mum said. “Whenever you are outside of class, your common room, or the Great Hall, she must be with you. If not her, then a member of the staff must be with you. We aren’t taking any chances with this basilisk.” 

Hermione nodded. Requiring a chaperon wasn’t wonderful news, but being allowed to return to Hogwarts _was_ , so she figured that she could tolerate it for the time being. 

“We will be informing Professor McGonagall of our rules to ensure that you follow them,” her dad said. “I’m sure she’ll be discreet, but how she enforces these rules is her decision.” 

Once again, Hermione nodded. 

“You are not to wander the halls,” her mum said. “You are not to go looking for trouble.” 

“I don’t go looking for trouble,” Hermione said. “It finds me.” 

“Hermione, try to understand,” her mum said. 

“I understand, Mum,” Hermione replied. “Don’t do anything stupid.” 

“Not how I would phrase it, but that’s the idea.” 

“Alright,” Hermione said. “Thank you.” 

“Just… _Please_ be careful,” her mum said, hugging her. “I don’t want to receive a letter telling me that you’ve been hurt or worse.” 

“I won’t,” Hermione said. “My friends will keep me safe, and Rose told me that if she can’t, Professor Vector will make the effort to see me graduate.” 

“I guess she really likes you,” her dad said. 

“I really like her,” Hermione said. “Without her and Cedric keeping the other students in check, I’m not sure I’d have survived Arithmancy as long as I have.” 

“Which one’s Cedric?” her dad asked. 

“The Hufflepuff boy that sits next to me in Arithmancy,” Hermione replied. “He’s like the Hufflepuff version of Percy Weasley.” 

“Okay,” Dan said, filing the information away in his “Boys to Keep an Eye on” mental folder. He hoped his daughter was more concerned about the Basilisk at her school than she was about boys, but she _was_ a teenager. Maybe he could convince Rose to help him in his endeavor. 

* * *

Rose received the good news that night. After that, she passed along the news to her friends, who were all overjoyed that Hermione was going to be returning. Not that Rose gave them a choice in the matter. 

In fact, it seemed that the only person not celebrating was Reflectesalon. 

Despite being dedicated to Rose, Reflectesalon chose to stay quiet about a detail that he knew she would overlook. She was so delighted with Luna’s drawing that Reflectesalon didn’t have the heart to point it out to her, so he continued to say nothing and let his mistress remain happy. 

The drawing didn’t just look like her friends; it was _perfect_. It was as if Luna had seen them hundreds of times, and not just in Rose’s drawings. Sure, it was a possibility that it had simply been so long since Reflectesalon had seen the Exalted that he had forgotten exactly what they looked like, but he had a feeling about this. 

As such, there was one question on Reflectesalon’s mind: How had Luna seen them before? 


	20. Practice Makes Perfect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ron proves he's a stubborn git.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** Despite all the practice I've had, I still have trouble coming up with clever ways of reminding people that J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter.

The days turned into months, and snow slowly stopped falling. There was still a chill in the air, but the Basilisk was nowhere to be found. Rose kept tabs on it, expecting it to come out at any moment, but there was nothing. Many people began to wonder if it was still alive. 

“Are you sure you didn’t kill it?” Hermione asked. 

“It’s still alive,” Rose replied. “It’s waiting for something, I just don’t know what.” 

Rose told her friends that they should all be ready for the next time it attacked. It was for this reason that Ron stayed after Charms class one day in late April. 

“Professor Flitwick, I had a question,” Ron said. 

“I’m always happy to answer questions, Mr. Weasley,” the Charms Professor said. “Please, ask away. Don’t be shy!” 

“I know it’s advanced for me, but I wanted to see a demonstration of the summoning charm,” Ron said. “And if it’s not too much trouble, the propulsion charm.” 

Ron wasn’t typically one to be polite, but he really wanted the Charms Professor to agree to his request, so he had practiced it in his head over and over. He understood what good manners were, he just didn’t employ them that often. 

“Those _are_ advanced,” Professor Flitwick replied. “That’s the fifth year curriculum, both of those. But, of course, I can show you how they’re done. I’m glad you’re taking an interest in them, Mr. Weasley!” Professor Flitwick stood up straight, not that it mattered. At no more than four feet, he stood shorter than Rose, who was short for her age, or at least, what she claimed her age to be. Even the small stack of books upon which he stood during classes didn’t help much. 

Brandishing his wand, the Charms Professor pointed it at a book on a shelf on the far wall. 

“ _Accio book!_ ” 

Ron watched bewildered as the book flew towards them. It sailed through the air, then, faster than Ron could see, Professor Flitwick’s arm shot through the air and grabbed the book as it reached them. 

“That’s a standard summoning charm,” Professor Flitwick said. “Of course, it’s harder to move heavier objects. It’s similar to a levitation charm, in the sense that one must supply more energy to move a heavier object. The energy intensive step is getting it moving, but once your target is in the air, the amount of energy can be diminished. If you don’t know the location of your target, you may still summon it to you, but you have little opportunity to control the path of the object, which is possible in advanced cases.” 

Ron nodded. He was paying enough attention, but he was also trying to commit the wand movements to memory. He knew it was advanced, but he wanted to learn the spell. It wasn’t apparition like Rose could do, but it was a start. 

Ever since the chess match at the end of his first year, Ron had been trying to figure out a way to move people around as easily as Rose had during the match. He wasn’t a fighter yet, but if could learn, then maybe he stood a chance at being prepared for the next batch of problems they encountered. 

“A propulsion charm is the exact opposite of a summoning charm,” the short professor continued. “It provides a controlled burst of energy directed away from the caster instead of towards them. Like so.” 

He tossed the book into the air and pointed his wand at it. 

“ _Depulso!_ ” 

The book was thrown back, streaking through the air to the opposite wall. 

“ _Accio!_ ” 

The book suddenly stopped midway and flew back to the Charms Professor. With a flick of his wand, it stopped again and instead veered to the right. With another flick, the book soared straight up, then back down to the ground. Finally, Professor Flitwick summoned the book back to him, grabbing it as easily as he did the first time. 

Turning to the second-year, Professor Flitwick handed him the book. “I believe this will help answer any further questions, Mr. Weasley. If it doesn’t, then you know that my door is always open.” 

Ron took the book that was offered to him, and read the cover. 

_Control: Summoning, Propulsion, and Everything in Between_

“Thanks, Professor,” Ron said, taking the book. “That was brilliant!” 

Professor Flitwick jumped off the small stack of books on which he had been standing. “I’m certainly glad you think so. Run along, I’m sure you won’t want to be late for your next class.” 

“It’s just History of Magic,” Ron said. 

“Don’t keep Professor Binns, or your friends, waiting,” Filius said, ignoring the distaste in the boy’s voice. Sure, Binns wasn’t a particularly _capable_ professor, but he was still a professor, and people should respect that. 

Ron muttered something quickly, then bid the Charms Professor farewell. 

“Thanks again for the book,” he said on his way out of the classroom. 

* * *

“ _Accio book!_ ” 

Ron pointed his wand at the bookshelf in the Common Room, but nothing happened. 

“ _Accio book!_ ” 

“You should get some rest.” 

“Ah!” Ron jumped and looked around the room for the source of the voice. 

Standing at the foot of the stairs leading to the girls’ rooms was Hermione. 

“So should you,” Ron said, returning to his attempts at a summoning charm. “It’s Friday. Who cares? I’ll just sleep in tomorrow morning.” 

“Ron, it’s one in the morning,” Hermione said. 

“Maybe Rose can make one of those rings for me, then,” he said irritably. 

“It takes a week to attune,” Hermione said. “Rose says it’s supposed to be some sort of limiter, so people can’t just circulate it around a party.” 

“Whatever _that_ means,” Ron replied. “ _Accio book!_ ” 

Hermione sighed. “Try a lighter object.” 

Ron turned to Hermione. “What?” 

“Those books are wedged into that bookshelf,” Hermione said. “It’s hard to move them _without_ a summoning charm. You’ll need a lot of energy to move them, but if you try something lighter, then you won’t need as much energy.” Hermione looked around the room for something lighter, but there wasn’t much. Sure, she could try moving one of the books, but then it would still be a heavy object. 

Then an idea struck her. She took a pencil out of her pocket, and set it on the table. “Try moving my pencil.” 

Ron stared at her. “Really?” 

“Did you ever stop and think that maybe there’s a reason we practiced the levitation charm with feathers?” Hermione asked. “Did we start with books? No, we started with something light. I haven’t got a feather on me, because quills are frustrating, so just use the pencil.” 

“That’s it?” Ron asked. “Not going to correct me on anything. No ‘It’s pronounced AW-see-o, not ah-SEE-o’, or ‘The wand movement’s like _this_ , not like that!’?” 

“Do you want help or not?” 

“No, I don’t!” Ron shouted. “I don’t need anyone’s help! I can do this on my own!” 

“Fine,” Hermione huffed. She grabbed her pencil from the table and shoved it back in her pocket. “I was just trying to make it easier for you, but clearly, you don’t care.” 

“No, I don’t,” Ron repeated. 

“Ugh, you’re so stubborn!” 

“You’re pretentious!” 

Hermione was taken aback, not just because she had been called “pretentious”, but because _Ron_ had just called her pretentious. “Since when do you know the word ‘pretentious’?” 

“I read, remember?” 

“No, Ronald, you do the same thing I do,” Hermione said. “You use a trinket Rose made to read the book in seconds. How’s that working for you, by the way? How’s your head?” 

“Fine, no thanks for asking,” Ron said, still glaring at Hermione. “I’ll have you know it stopped hurting after the first few times I used it.” 

“And now you’re at the top of your class,” Hermione said. “Where do you think you’d be without it, Ronald? I’ll tell you where you’d be: You’d be back at the bottom, struggling to get by, probably trying to copy off _my_ work.” 

“What’s your problem, Hermione?!” 

“Every time I try to help you, you snap at me!” Hermione shot back. “I don’t even know what I did to annoy you so much! It’s _you_ that’s always had a problem with _me_!” 

“My problem is that you’ve _always_ got to be right! We get it! You’re clever! You don’t need to rub it in our faces _all the time_!” 

Hermione didn’t know how to respond to that. She could no longer tell if Ron was just reacting out of anger or honestly hated how clever she was. Either way, she didn’t need to listen anymore. 

“Fine,” Hermione huffed. “You want me to go? I’ll go.” 

Hermione turned around and walked back up the stairs to her room, leaving Ron to his futile attempts at a summoning charm. 

Ron continued trying to move the books, but every time he tried, he heard Hermione’s voice in his head. 

_It’s pronounced AW-see-o, not ah-SEE-o!_

Ron clenched his fist, then put his wand away. He couldn’t stand being in the common room anymore, so he left. He didn’t know where he was going, apart from away, so he just walked. 

Through what might as well have been an active war zone. 

He realized his mistake when he reached the sixth floor and heard a snake hissing. 

_At least now I know it isn’t dead!_ Ron thought, freezing where he stood. 

Ron did the only thing that came to mind. He closed his eyes, then began to walk backwards. If he saw it, he’d be dead. If it attacked him, he’d be dead. His only chance was to keep his eyes closed, and hope that it would just ignore him. He had no other hope. Ron was helpless to stop it. 

The hissing suddenly stopped, and Ron had a sinking feeling. It wasn’t that it was moving away from him; that would be a different sound, he was pretty sure. 

He heard the Basilisk going for him. It was a loud hissing, almost like a gasp. 

_This is it,_ thought Ron. _It’s going to kill me. Why didn’t I just accept Hermione’s help? Then I’d still be back in Gryffindor Tower, nice and safe._

Instead of horrible pain, Ron felt himself being pulled away from the hissing. Not by a hand, but rather by an invisible force, as if his entire body were being hurled across the hallway. 

Ron landed on his backside and instinctively opened his eyes. 

He could just about make out the shape of the Basilisk on the ground not 10 feet away from him. He couldn’t see its eyes, but what he saw before him amazed him. 

Standing in front of him, eyes closed, wand at the ready, and currently blocking his line of sight to the Basilisk was none other than Professor Flitwick. 

“Keep your eyes closed, Mr. Weasley,” the Charms Professor said. “I’ll guide you back to Gryffindor Tower, and if you’re lucky, I’ll settle for giving you a detention for breaking curfew.” 

Ron snapped his eyes shut. “What if I’m _not_ lucky?” 

“I’ll inform your mother that you were out past curfew.” 

For a second, Ron considered opening his eyes and staring at the Basilisk. At least then it would be over quickly. Once his mum found out about this, he would be receiving a howler from her. Although, it could be interesting to see how Rose would react to a howler. Maybe he could convince her that they were under attack and that she should destroy it immediately. 

“Stand up!” Flitwick ordered. 

Ron immediately did as he was told. 

“How can you see?” Ron asked. 

“Earth Eyes Charm, Mr. Weasley,” came the reply. “I can’t see, but I can tell where you and the creature are by the vibrations you make in the stone. Duck!” 

Ron dropped to the floor as he felt something lunge over him, presumably the Basilisk. Once he no longer felt it above him, he slowly climbed to his feet. 

“Face my voice!” 

Ron obediently turned until he was facing the direction from which Professor Flitwick’s voice had come. 

“Make a quarter turn clockwise, then start walking quickly!” 

Concentrating to remember which direction was clockwise, Ron quickly began walking, not worrying about where he was going. He could hear light footsteps behind him, and realized that Professor Flitwick was following him. 

“Very good, Mr. Weasley,” he said. 

“Can’t you use the charm on me so I can see?” Ron asked. 

“It only works on the caster,” replied the Charms Professor. “ _Stupefy!_ ” 

Despite his eyes being closed, Ron saw a red flash and heard angry hissing. 

“That’s not going to stop it for long,” Flitwick said. “Take five more steps, then turn to your left. There’s a staircase there!” 

Ron nearly tripped over the staircase, then started climbing up it, thankful it was the stationary kind. 

From behind him, Ron heard a crashing noise and the floor shook. 

“Don’t worry,” Professor Flitwick said. “I collapsed part of the ceiling to hold it off longer. Unfortunately, Mr. Weasley, I believe it’s got our scent. Keep moving. You can open your eyes, just don’t look back. Atrien!” 

Ron opened his eyes just in time to see a house-elf appear before him. 

Filius’s instinct was to have the Head Elf fetch the Headmaster, but it would take Albus time to reach them. It would take him longer to reach them given that the Basilisk could be around any corner. Even if Albus used Fawkes, there was still no guarantee that they could stop the Basilisk, and he needed to get the Weasley boy to safety. 

Filius dug into his vast wealth of knowledge and pulled out the solution. It was unorthodox, but it was his best bet at ensuring that the Weasley boy survived. 

“Atrien,” the Charms Professor said without so much as turning around. “Go to Gryffindor Tower and find Rose Peta-Lorrum. Bring her here and have her return Mr. Weasley to the Tower at once. Then send for any professor other than Gilderoy Lockhart, preferably Albus or Minerva.” 

Unlike literally every other Human in the school, Rose Peta-Lorrum was capable of apparating within the castle. That meant she could do a side-along apparition with Ronald Weasley to get him safely back to Gryffindor Tower, something several staff members assured him was possible. 

“Yes, Professor!” Atrien said. With a faint cracking sound, the Head Elf vanished to carry out her task. 

Ron watched as Professor Flitwick thrusted his wand forward and hurled several of the rocks toward the Basilisk, striking the creature square in the head. With a sickening crunch, the creature was thrown backwards away from the pair. 

“That doesn’t mean you should stop moving, Mr. Weasley!” Filius shouted at the boy as he hurled more rocks at the creature. “I’ll start docking points if you stand there and stare!” 

Ron didn’t need to be told again. He turned around and began to run up the stairs, an easier task now that he could see. He had just reached the seventh floor when he felt a strange feeling. It was as if he were being sucked through a small hole at an alarmingly high speed. Actually, it felt a little like using a portkey. 

The next thing Ron knew he was on the floor of Gryffindor Tower with Rose, Percy, and Hermione standing over him. 

“What were you thinking?!” Percy shouted. “You could’ve been killed!” 

“From what Atrien told us, you nearly were!” Hermione added. 

“You were lucky that Rose was able to pull you out!” Percy shouted, still not sure _how_ the crimson-haired girl had saved his brother. “When Mum finds out about this–” 

“That’s a little harsh,” Rose said. “I’d say he’s learned his lesson.” 

Finally! Someone _not_ mad at him. 

“Although, I _did_ have to use XP to get you back here,” Rose added. “That’s my big resource, so maybe we _should_ tell your mother.” 

“What’s going on?” 

The group turned to see Sally-Anne and Alex emerging from the girls’ rooms. 

“We heard shouting,” Sally-Anne said. “Is everything alright?” 

“Ron and Hermione got into an argument, and after Hermione stormed off up to our room, Cohort had the bright idea to walk through the castle to calm down,” Rose explained. “Where he met the Basilisk.” 

Sally-Anne gasped. “Are you alright?!” 

“Thanks for _not_ yelling at me,” Ron said, climbing to his feet. 

“He’s fine,” Rose said. “Professor Flitwick saw to that.” She stopped talking and blinked a few times. “Professor Flitwick!” 

With no more warning than that, Rose vanished in a burst of rose petals. 

“It’s still strange seeing her do that,” Alex said. 

“I can top that,” Hermione said. “Rose just pulled Ronald here from a different part of the castle. Not pull as in physically move, but pull as in apparition.” 

“Wait,” Alex said. “She can apparate other people?!” 

“Yup,” Hermione said. “Now that I think about it, she did the same thing when Ronald and Harry missed the train this year.” 

“Right,” Percy said, taking control of the situation. “Ronald, we’re not done talking about this.” 

Ron groaned. “Of course not.” 

* * *

Filius wasn’t sure how, but when he no longer felt Weasley’s footsteps, he figured that Peta-Lorrum must have pulled off another one of her tricks to get him away from the monster. As always, he was interested as to how she had done it, but more relieved that the Gryffindor was safe. Now it was time for him to attend to the Basilisk. 

He figured that the only way it would remove itself was either if he could mortally wound it, or if it got him. Either way, he wasn’t liking his odds. With luck, Atrien had retrieved Albus, but the odds of them getting there before the beast finished him off were small. Unfortunately, most elves had difficulty with side-along apparitions, otherwise Filius would’ve simply had Atrien do so with the Weasley boy. 

Filius recast the earth eyes charm for good measure, then readied himself for the beast’s next attack. 

The Basilisk lashed out at him, ripping through his stone barrier with ease. He cast a scattering hex beneath him, slowing the creature and hurling him away from it. He gracefully landed on his feet and turned to face his opponent. 

The monster slowly moved to Filius’s left, possibly looking for an opening. Filius could hear it hissing quietly as it looked over the professor. He knew exactly what it was doing. It was waiting for him to make the next move. Filius knew this because it was exactly what _he_ was doing. If he struck first, it would react against him and have its opening. 

Filius slowly backed up along the staircase behind him. His opponent was now on a timer, so all he needed to do was run down the clock, and he could live to tell his students about this. Filius always enjoyed stories about how Charms class could serve a student in real life. This was a prime example. 

With reflexes he wasn’t expecting, the Basilisk lashed out at Filius, narrowly missing the small professor. On his left, the wall and floor were ripped apart by the Basilisk. He sensed the beast move around him to block his exit. With a small sinking feeling, Filius realized that he was trapped. 

_I guess this is it,_ he thought. _Best go down swinging._

Filius threw another stunner at the Basilisk, but it was ready for him this time. It dodged aside and lashed out at him. Filius quickly threw another scattering hex, landing on the beast itself. Unfortunately for him, the beast recovered faster than he did by a millisecond. 

Jaws open, it went for the professor. 

“ _Nyr doch!_ ” 

Filius immediately recognized the voice of Rose Peta-Lorrum echoing through the stairwell, and felt rose petals brush against him. He quickly cast the aerial equivalent of the Earth Eyes Charm (creatively named the _Air_ Eyes Charm) and sensed the outline of the crimson-haired girl, and what could almost have been a staff in her hands. Except that most staves didn’t have pointed ends, and he was quite certain he felt emanations of heat coming off the weapon. 

The girl flew through the air towards the Basilisk, slicing into its side with her weapon. As if she had done so hundreds of times, she landed nimbly on her left foot and spun around in place. Her blade caught the Basilisk’s underbelly as it recoiled from her. Both ends of her weapon ignited, burning her target as she gutted it. 

The Basilisk reared back and retreated out of the staircase, back towards the sixth floor. 

“Oh good,” Rose muttered. “It remembered me.” She turned to see the Charms Professor panting on the ground, dumped off the back of the beast when it fled. “Professor Flitwick!” 

“You shouldn’t be here, Ms. Peta-Lorrum!” Filius said. 

“Trust me, it’s safer for me than it is for you,” she said. “I’ve got _blindsight_ out to 60 feet. I can pinpoint it based on its movements and breathing.” 

“As can I,” Filius replied. “Earth and Air Eyes Charms. I can sense the vibrations it makes in the stone and in the air.” 

“Nice!” the girl replied, grinning. “Like _tremorsense_!” 

“It could be,” Filius said. 

“You’re in charge, so what’s the plan?” 

“Get out before it comes back, live to fight another day,” the Charms Professor replied. “Then lecture Mr. Weasley during detention.” 

“Alright. Living to fight another day.” 

Filius felt a sensation of being pulled through a small hole at a high velocity, then felt completely different vibrations. Opening his eyes, he found that Peta-Lorrum had taken them to Albus’s office. Accompanying them were Atrien and Albus himself. 

“There can be no doubt about it, Albus,” Filius began. “It’s a basilisk.” 

“Atrien was just informing me of the details,” Albus said. “And I see Ms. Peta-Lorrum has found herself in the middle of everything once again.” 

“Only because I called her, Albus,” Filius said. “I couldn’t think of a faster way of removing the youngest Mr. Weasley from the situation. He was moving blindly through the castle, and it was a long way to either Ravenclaw or Gryffindor Tower. We should really consider teaching the students the Earth Eyes Charm.” 

“Have his brothers and sister been informed?” Albus asked. 

“Percy knows,” Rose said. “Atrien found Hermione and I while we were walking down to the Common Room. Hermione accidentally woke up half the girls in Gryffindor by shouting, most of whom simply fell back asleep. However, Sally-Anne roused Alex, and I sent Intelligencer to fetch Percy while I pulled Cohort back into the Common Room where he _should_ have been in the first place.” 

“He was fortunate that I was taking a midnight stroll, otherwise he’d be dead,” Filius said. “Albus, we’ve got to do something about that creature. For starters, it destroyed several parts of the hallway, something that will not go unnoticed. Further, we’ve done all we can to keep word from getting out, but it will eventually reach the Ministry that these attacks are not under control. The moment Lucius finds out, he’ll–” 

“I’m aware, Filius,” Albus said calmly. “Rest as best you can, and Filius, we’ll meet with Minerva, Pomona, and Severus tomorrow morning. Rose, return to Gryffindor Tower and inform everyone that if they don’t go back to sleep, I will be docking everyone 25 points. Tell the Weasleys that _I_ will be handling informing their parents of what has happened, and they are not to speak a word of this to anyone.” 

“Yes, Professor,” Rose said, nodding. She vanished in a burst of rose petals. 

“I’m not sure why she wants to use fire for that,” Albus muttered. “I quite enjoy the rose petals. They’re less destructive than fire, and they add a personal touch.” He turned to Filius. “Filius, get some rest. That was quick thinking, using the Earth Eyes Charm.” 

“I’ve had that plan for months, Albus,” Filius said. “A few of us were discussing strategies to use against it. Minerva suggested transfiguring bells onto it or the ground into violin strings. Of course, Severus thought of a crackle potion to make its movements obvious.” 

“It’s good to know that everyone’s got a plan,” Albus said. “As I said, get some rest. If you were still one of my students, I’d award you house points.” 

“Despite not being one of your students, that still means a lot, Albus,” Filius said. “Good night.” 

* * *

Despite receiving orders from Professor Dumbledore himself to go to sleep, Ron didn’t do anything other than stare at the ceiling that night. Now that he had calmed down, he wanted to do nothing more than talk with Hermione and apologize. He felt horrible about snapping at her, and realized that she _was_ smarter than him. As much as he hated to admit it, she was better with facts and information than he was, despite having the same advantage she did. 

Well, almost the same advantage. He didn’t have her hair clip, but she was clever before Rose gave it to her. Ron was nothing without that bracelet. 

After staring at the ceiling for a few hours, Ron got out of bed and went down to the common room where he found Rose and Hermione. 

“Good morning, girls,” he said quietly. 

“You look exhausted,” Hermione said. “Did you sleep at _all_?” 

“Couldn’t,” Ron replied, rubbing his eyes. 

“So you’ve gone over 24 hours without sleep?” Hermione asked. “Ron, that’s–” 

“Easily fixed,” Rose said, pulling out her wand. Waving it over Ron, she whispered something in a language he didn’t understand. 

The second the wand touched Ron, he felt as if he had just got a full night’s rest. He felt more relaxed than he had in weeks. 

“Thanks,” Ron said. “You didn’t have to do that.” 

“You nearly died a few hours ago,” Rose said. “It’s the least I can do.” She narrowed her eyes. “Let it be a lesson to you: Don’t wander off on your own when you’re low level. Always stick with the rest of the party until you’re at least level five.” 

“Why level five?” Ron asked. 

“Third-level spells!” Rose exclaimed. “ _Fireball_ , _dimension step_ , _haste_ , _slow_ , _unluck_ , _fly_. There are a whole bunch of good spells! At that point, a character can probably wander off on their own for a few hours at a time.” 

Ron blinked. Despite feeling great, he _still_ didn’t understand Rose. 

“Anyway,” Rose said. “I’ve got stuff to which I must attend. I’ll see you two later.” 

With that, Rose vanished, leaving several rose petals in her wake. 

Ron walked over to the couch and sat down beside Hermione. 

“I’m… I’m sorry for shouting at you like that,” Ron said. “I was just tired, and frustrated, and…” 

“Apology accepted,” Hermione said, closing the maths book she was reading. “I should’ve kept a cool head. I’m sorry too.” 

Ron nodded his acceptance. “First Sally-Anne and Harry, now us. Who’s next? Rose and Luna?” 

“I hope not,” Hermione replied, laughing. “I think the Basilisk’s got us all a little on edge.” 

“I guess,” Ron mumbled. 

Hermione noticed that her friend was still being bothered by something. Her first instinct was to not get involved and mind her own business, but after the past few hours, she wanted to make sure her friend was alright. She already knew that there was something bothering him, and if it continued unchecked, he could end up like she had the previous year, or he could lose his temper again. 

“Care to share?” she asked. 

“It’s nothing, just… I really wanted to get it right.” 

“Summoning?” Hermione asked. 

“Yeah, I… I don’t want to sit in the back while everyone’s on the front lines,” Ron said. “I’ve got all this information in my head, but I’m still useless!” 

“That’s all I’ve got,” Hermione said, hoping it would help. 

“But you’ve got Arithmancy,” Ron said. “You’re smarter than I am! I can work through logic and strategy, but it’s you that’s got the answer! No matter what I do, no matter what information I’ve got, no matter how hard I try, I’m just Harry Potter’s friend! Or for a few months I was Sally-Anne Perks’s friend! Or Bill and Charlie’s kid brother! All of you are in the middle of the fight, while I’m always stuck on the side lines. Like Rose says, I’m just a cohort. I nearly died last night, and I was too scared to fight back. Not like Harry, who ran in to fight You-Know-Who last year, or Sally-Anne who fought after getting poisoned a few months ago! And of course, Rose!” 

“That’s not fair,” Hermione said. “You can’t compare yourself to Rose. She _had_ to learn to fend for herself. Besides, her brother and sister taught her how to fight. Not to mention, Rose isn’t like us. I don’t think she’s even got a proper home.” 

“All of you are stepping up, and I’m not! I don’t want to get left behind. I thought if I could just learn the summoning charm, I could…” Ron didn’t finish his sentence after realizing how ridiculous it would sound. 

“Play chess on a grand scale?” Hermione suggested. 

Ron scowled. “Yeah, how’d you know?” 

“Because I thought the same thing.” 

“Wait,” Ron said. It couldn’t be. Hermione was trying to take the last thing he had! “ _You’re_ trying to–” 

“No,” Hermione said, her face flushing a little as she realized how her words had sounded. “I meant I thought _you’d_ be good at it. Ron, you’re _amazing_ at chess. You can look at the board and see exactly what you need to do to win. Every time I think I’ve got you figured out when we’re playing, you’re always three steps ahead of me. If you could move people like you could pieces, we’d win every fight.” 

“Thanks,” Ron said. 

“Ron, Harry got lucky,” Hermione said. “Sally-Anne practiced with Rose, and I’m nothing without my hair clip. As for Rose herself, I think her world demands that a person be strong. I don’t think the weak survive long, if at all. What I’m trying to say is, you can’t do this by yourself.” 

Ron looked at his bushy-haired friend. She was smarter than he was, and could probably work out the summoning charm before him. But that meant that she could help him. Maybe he’d be good at it. He’d already read the book Professor Flitwick gave him the previous day several times over. If he could just get someone to help him, maybe he’d finally get it. 

“Is… Is your offer to help me still open?” 

Hermione smiled at him, then punched him in the arm. 

“Ow!” Ron exclaimed. “What was that for?!” 

“Being a stubborn git!” Hermione shouted. 

“So you won’t help me?” Ron asked, rubbing his arm. 

“Oh no, I’ll help you.” 

“Then why’d you punch me?” 

“Because you’re a stubborn git!” 


	21. Decisions, Decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which decisions are made and conversations are had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** It is always my decision to remind you that J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter.

“I can confirm that not only is the Monster of Slytherin a Basilisk,” Filius said later that morning, “but also that Rose Peta-Lorrum _does_ wield a double-bladed sword.” 

No one was happy about this most recent turn of events. While Filius debriefed them on that morning’s events, everyone thought the same thing: The Basilisk had to go _now_. 

“What I don’t understand is why the Basilisk fled from her,” Filius said. “It considered the Weasley boy easy prey, and if I’m not mistaken, it was _toying_ with me, but the moment she showed up, it couldn’t get out of that corridor fast enough.” 

“As I’ve said before,” Severus said, “she could be in on it.” 

“That’s possible,” Filius said, “or she really did nearly beat it to death and it remembered her.” 

“I can think of few better ways of training such a creature,” Severus said. 

“If I may,” Pomona said, “we’ve seen her destroy a rabid Bludger without a second thought, and she carries a concealed weapon her person. What possible reason could she have for using the Basilisk?” 

“I do believe that’s the same point _she_ made,” Albus commented. 

“Perhaps she is attempting to portray herself as a hero,” Minerva suggested. 

“If that is the case, then I’m afraid I played right into her hands by calling her,” Filius said. 

“If you hadn’t, then Molly Weasley would be short one child right now,” Pomona noted. 

“Why _her_?” Severus asked. “Why not Albus?” 

“If I had called Albus, I had no guarantee it would not kill the both of us!” Filius explained. “Ms. Peta-Lorrum has proven to be a formidable opponent for the beast, she can apparate around the castle as she pleases, and if I understand her _veil of undeath_ spell correctly, she’s not technically alive, and thus immune to the stare of the Basilisk. However, she doesn’t want us to know this, otherwise we’d know by now.” 

“Once again, I am impressed by how much thought you’ve put into this, Filius,” Albus said. 

“Thank you, Albus,” Filius said. “I may be a little rusty, but nonetheless I can size up an opponent, or in this case an ally.” 

“Why do you think we’d know by now?” Minerva asked. 

“She’s willing to explain anything in depth, except for what she doesn’t want us to know,” Filius replied. “ _Veil of undeath_ , _Crimson Thorn_ , even the various names of her pieces of clothing, but she’s quiet about anything else. She didn’t immediately tell us about _Crimson Thorn_ , but the second she did, she no longer cared to keep it a secret.” 

“An accurate assessment, I’d say,” Albus said. 

Filius nodded. He found the girl odd, but, like the Headmaster, he was fascinated with her. Not to mention, had it not been for her, the bullying of Luna Lovegood would’ve continued almost completely unhindered. Not that the girl seemed to care, but it was the principle of the thing. 

“Let’s assume for a moment that Peta-Lorrum _has_ been telling us the truth this entire time,” Severus began. “What if she became addicted to being the hero? What if she can’t help but force us to rely on her? She’s created the perfect scenario that forces her to become involved. Just look at the attacks. The victims have all been her friends. Potter was attacked by a Bludger, which Peta-Lorrum destroyed. Weasley and Perks were attacked by the Basilisk, and Peta-Lorrum fought it off. She can hear the creature in the walls, and she knew it was coming before anyone else. It all revolves around her.” 

“Severus, I believe you’re correct in that it does revolve around her, but I don’t know if she’s the one behind it,” Albus said. “If she is, and she merely wants to save us all from a threat she’s created, then I believe we should allow her to ‘save’ us, so long as no one else gets hurt.” 

“But you don’t think it’s her,” Minerva said. 

“No. I think someone is after her. If Rose is not behind this, then stifling her will only make our opponent’s job easier. If we rush in without knowing who is pulling the strings, then we may only make matters worse.” 

“And your plan for finding out is…?” Severus asked. 

“We talk to her friends under the illusion that we are discussing the Basilisk,” Albus said. “Filius, you speak with Mr. Weasley, as he is expecting you to do so already. Pomona, I believe you will be most successful at talking with Mr. Longbottom, and Minerva, I need you to talk with Ms. Weasley. I will inform Septima and Bathsheda, and they will speak with her last two friends.” 

“What of Potter?” Minerva asked. 

“I will be speaking with him,” Albus replied. 

Severus counted off professors, and realized that Albus had not named anyone to speak with Rose. Which left… 

“No,” Severus said. 

“Severus, I–” 

“I’m _not_ talking to her unless absolutely necessary.” 

“Severus, this might _be_ necessary,” Minerva said. “Suck it up, and–” 

“Both of you, that’s enough,” Albus said calmly. “Severus, I wasn’t going to ask. I don’t believe we will get any information out of Rose that we don’t have already.” 

“What about Ms. Lovegood?” Filius asked. 

“I don’t believe we will get anything from her either,” Albus replied. “If I’m not mistaken, the two girls both have a void in their lives that they are using the other to fill. Rose misses her family, and Luna recently lost her mother. This being the case, I don’t believe that it will be possible to get information about Rose from Luna, as the girl is difficult to understand when we aren’t attempting to pry information out of her. When we are, if she realizes it, she will shut us out, and if she doesn’t, she will continue to be incomprehensible to most of us.” 

Albus looked around the room at his four house heads. 

“We are all here at Hogwarts with the intention to help the students learn and grow. We can all agree on that, and we can all agree that the past two years have been difficult. I don’t believe that we should be so quick to distrust Rose. We’ve got our fair share of problems without someone causing more, so if it is indeed the case that she needs a problem to solve, we can always lead her in a different direction. If this isn’t the case, then we must find the culprit and ensure that they will no longer harm any of our students. Whatever the case may be, this ends now.” 

Albus gave his staff a moment to process that before concluding with “Meeting adjourned.” 

* * *

“Mum’s gonna kill you when she finds out,” Ginny said over breakfast. 

“I’ll be fine,” Ron said. “Professor Dumbledore said he’s going to tell Mum and Dad. The worst thing that’ll happen is that I get a howler and Rose can just blow it up or something.” 

“What’s a howler?” Harry asked. 

“A letter that shouts its message,” Hermione replied. “I can’t imagine why _anyone_ would want to send one. Why broadcast your conversation like that?” 

“To embarrass your kids?” Sally-Anne suggested. “Maybe that’s all people ever do with them. Maybe they’re just used to embarrass other people.” 

Hermione thought back to some books she’d read where a person, usually (but not always) a woman, would make a scene to humiliate her boyfriend (or girlfriend). A howler would be the equivalent of that in the Magical World. It wasn’t a comforting thought, but it was something that Hermione could keep in mind. Hermione didn’t expect to need it, as she assumed her judgement in boys would be good enough to find one that wasn’t so thickheaded that Hermione would _need_ to make a scene. That was, of course, when she started having interest in boys, and that wouldn’t be happening until Hermione felt like she was safe. 

So probably never. 

“I guess that makes sense,” Hermione said. “Would your mum _really_ send one?” 

“If she’s angry enough,” Ginny said. “And trust me, Mum can be _terrifying_ when she’s mad.” 

“Have any of you picked electives yet?” Hermione asked, hoping to get off the topic of the Basilisk. 

Normally, they would’ve chosen electives a month ago, but the deadline was pushed out several weeks to accommodate the students that were absent due to the possibility of being killed at any second. 

“Basilisk,” Ron said. 

_You_ would _dash my hopes immediately, Ronald,_ Hermione thought. 

“I’m probably just going to take whatever Ron takes,” Harry said. 

“I haven’t thought about it yet,” Sally-Anne said. “Like Ron said: Basilisk.” 

“What are electives?” Rose asked. 

“That’s about what I was expecting,” Hermione said, sighing. “Sally-Anne, aren’t you going to take Study of Ancient Runes with Professor Babbling?” 

“I guess so,” Sally-Anne said. “I’m not sure that I like runes in general, just this one.” She turned her hand over, indicating the shield rune on her hand. “Maybe Care for Magical Creatures, too. I heard Hagrid’s going to be teaching it next year.” 

“That should be fun,” Rose said. 

“I was thinking of taking that and Divination,” Ron said. “Both are supposed to be easy O’s.” 

“Why not do something you might enjoy?” Hermione asked. “You’ve been reading a lot, so you must enjoy _something_.” 

“I guess… I guess I enjoy Charms more than anything,” Ron said. “I… I _thought_ about taking Arithmancy, but I don’t think crafting the spells is my thing, so much as researching them.” 

“What about Muggle Studies?” Sally-Anne asked. “Your dad’s trying to learn more about Muggles, so I bet he’d be happy if you took up learning about them.” 

“And with your bracelet, it should make it a lot easier than it would be for most people, since it’s probably mostly reading,” Hermione added. 

Ron paused for a moment. He hadn’t thought about that. If he could strike up conversations with his dad, maybe they could start playing chess again. Ron always loved playing chess with his dad, but with his dad’s bill being pushed through the Ministry, the head of the Weasley household hadn’t had much time for anything else. 

“Yeah,” Ron said, a smile forming on his face. “Thanks, Sally-Anne.” 

Sally-Anne subtly nodded towards Hermione. 

“What?” Ron asked. 

“No, you’re being too subtle,” Ginny said, shaking her head. “He’ll never pick up on that.” Turning to her brother, she said, “Hermione helped too, Ronald!” 

“Right,” Ron said. “Sorry. Thanks, Hermione.” 

Rose smiled, barely containing a laugh as Hermione and Sally-Anne both turned a faint shade of red. 

“What about you, Harry?” Sally-Anne asked. “Being raised with Muggles, it’s probably not worth it for you to take Muggle Studies.” 

“I don’t know,” Harry said. “I like Defence when Lockhart’s not teaching it. What are the electives again?” 

“Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, Muggle Studies, Care for Magical Creatures, and Divination,” Hermione recited. 

“I want to take Care for Magical Creatures if Hagrid’s teaching it,” Harry said. “I don’t think Ancient Runes or Arithmancy would be something I’d like. Then again, Divination doesn’t seem that exciting either.” 

“Why don’t you ask Professor McGonagall or Professor Dumbledore?” Hermione said. “Maybe they’ve got some suggestions.” 

“I think I’ll talk with Professor Dumbledore,” Harry said. “He’ll probably know what to do.” 

Harry really didn’t know what to take. His friends were right; Muggle Studies _wouldn’t_ be worth his time, and Divination seemed… pointless. He figured it was magic, and with magic anything could be possible, but having met the Divination Professor, Professor Trelawney, before, he wasn’t sure it was for him. The woman was even less coherent than Rose and Luna. 

That left Ancient Runes and Arithmancy. Arithmancy was probably preferable to Study of Ancient Runes, as he had little interest in Ancient Runes, although if Hermione and Sally-Anne would both be taking it, it might be easier for him. Which left Arithmancy as the most difficult of his options, and Harry was having enough problems at Hogwarts without taking classes that made it any worse. If he _really_ wanted to have a difficult class, Harry would just start speaking out more in Potions. Having seen Rose, he knew the more attention he received from Professor Snape, the harder Potions class would become. 

“Alright,” Hermione said. “Now the tricky one.” She turned to face Rose, who had begun to draw. “Rose, what are _you_ planning on taking?” 

“No idea,” Rose said. “Other than the creatures one… Care for Magical Creatures (Thanks, Ref). That one sounds like fun.” 

“Can you even _take_ Arithmancy or Ancient Runes?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“Why wouldn’t she be able to take those?” Ginny asked, who had been silently listening the entire time, despite not needing to concern herself with electives for another year. 

“Erm… Well, you see…” Hermione tried, but she couldn’t come up with an explanation. 

“I can’t cast magic like you do,” Rose replied. “I just fake it using _my_ magic. Mine doesn’t necessarily involve a wand, but I use _Serendipity_ , whose power is nearly limitless.” 

“Rose, careful,” Hermione hissed. “If someone hears you–” 

“I cast _doublespeak_ whenever we talk now,” Rose said. “Well, almost always. I included Ginny and Neville in the conversation, so to them it doesn’t sound like we’re only talking about the weather or exams. I try not to use it more than once per day, but I figured we’d be doing some important talking this morning. I’m considering making a schema of it, or maybe a continuous item.” 

“What’s _doublespeak_?” Neville asked, having also been listening in on their conversation. It wasn’t as if he had _other_ friends, after all. Not that Neville minded anymore; what was important to him was that he _had_ friends, not how many he had. 

“Wonderful spell that stops people from listening in on our conversation,” Rose replied. “Well, in _this_ case it’s wonderful. A _normal_ party works out a common language among the group to use, rendering _doublespeak_ pointless. We should work on that.” 

“I don’t think knowing more than one language is as common here as it is in Roseland,” Ron said. “You know what, five languages?” 

“Twenty-two, I think,” Rose said. “I haven’t counted recently, although I’m pretty sure I’ve got it written down somewhere.” Rose’s face lit up. “Actually, _technically_ , I speak everything since I’ve got _tongues_ active!” Rose tilted her head. “Well, _speak with anything_ , which includes _tongues_.” 

“Right,” Hermione said. “I remember you mentioning _tongues_ last year.” 

“Doesn’t _doublespeak_ work _better_ than using a different language?” Sally-Anne asked. “I mean, if I’m trying to listen in on a conversation, and people are talking in a different language, then I’m going to suspect them. Right?” 

Rose tilted her head. “I hadn’t thought about that.” She grinned. “Brilliant!” Her eyes grew wide, and Hermione knew then that her crimson-haired friend had an idea. “I can integrate it into the telepathic network. Use _telepathic bond_ over distances or to communicate subtly, and _doublespeak_ to communicate in a general setting!” 

“Backing up for a moment,” Sally-Anne said. “Rose, _could_ you take Arithmancy or Ancient Runes?” 

“Probably, but it might be hard to keep faking it,” Rose said, scribbling in her notebook. 

“And you’ll probably drive Professor Trelawney mad if you take Divination,” Ron said. 

“And you might drive _Ron_ mad if you take Muggle Studies,” Harry said. 

“You’re not wrong,” Ron agreed. 

“I may need to talk with a professor as well,” Rose said. “Otherwise, I haven’t the faintest idea what to do.” She grinned. “I’ll talk with Professor McGonagall!” 

Her friends paused, each of them processing Rose’s last statement. 

“Did anyone else expect her to say Professor Snape?” Ron asked. 

“ _Everyone_ expected her to say Professor Snape,” Hermione said. 

“Nah, Professor Snape will just tell me to leave him alone,” Rose said. “So after going to him, I’ll just end up talking with Professor McGonagall anyway, so I might as well skip to the end.” 

“What about Professor Dumbledore?” Sally-Anne asked. “I don’t think another professor likes you half as much as he does.” 

“But Harry’s already planning on going to talk with Professor Dumbledore,” Rose replied. “It would just bother him if _both_ of us went to talk with him.” 

“What about you, Neville?” Hermione asked. 

“Divination and Care for Magical Creatures,” Neville said. “Alex says that they’re the two that use the least magic, and I’m not good with magic.” 

“Alright,” Hermione said. “At least we’ll all be taking Care for–” 

“Sorry to interrupt,” Professor Vector said. “But Hermione, may I talk with you in my office?” 

“Sure,” Hermione said. “I’ll see you all later.” 

* * *

About an hour later, Neville was pacing back and forth across the common room. Everything had started during breakfast. Everyone was talking about electives, and then Hermione had been escorted away by Professor Vector. Sally-Anne had assured everyone that it was alright, but not long before they were going to leave, she had been taken by Professor Babbling. 

Before the group made it to the second floor, Professor Flitwick took Ron, and Rose went to check on Hermione. Alex had sent Ginny, Harry, and Neville to Professor McGonagall’s office shortly after they had arrived at Gryffindor Tower the first time, and Professor Dumbledore had greeted them when they arrived. Professor Sprout had intercepted Harry and Neville on their way to Professor Dumbledore’s office, asking to talk with Neville. 

Neville didn’t understand why the professors were taking a sudden interest in him and his friends. All Professor Sprout had wanted to talk to him about was the Heir of Slytherin, and briefly asked about Rose. Neville had told her that he didn’t know anything about the Heir, and Rose was acting the same as she had always been. Apparently satisfied with that answer, Professor Sprout had returned him to Gryffindor Tower. 

“Ginny!” Neville exclaimed, seeing his friend come through the portal. “What’s going on?” 

“Dunno. Professor McGonagall wanted to talk to me about Ron and the Basilisk.” 

“Professor Sprout asked me about the Heir of Slytherin, but she didn’t say why.” 

“Where’s Harry?” Ginny asked. 

“Still with Professor Dumbledore. Professor Sprout caught me on my way to his office, and we just walked around the seventh floor until we got back here.” 

Hearing the portal open, the pair looked up to see Ron and Sally-Anne climbing through it. 

“What’s happening?” Sally-Anne asked. “Where is everyone?” 

“Professor Flitwick seemed more interested in the Basilisk than he did in me,” Ron said. “Not that I’m complaining or anything.” 

“Professor Sprout asked about the Heir,” Neville said. 

“Hold on,” Sally-Anne said. “Ginny, you?” 

“Professor McGonagall talked with me,” Ginny said. 

“We’ve _all_ talked with teachers?” Sally-Anne asked, looking around the common room. “Where’s Harry?” 

“Probably with Professor Dumbledore,” Neville said. 

“They’re looking for something,” Ron said. “Gotta be.” 

“But what?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“And why like this?” Ginny asked. “Why not just call us all to Professor Dumbledore’s office or something? Or Professor McGonagall’s?” 

Sally-Anne thought about it for a moment. What was different about gathering them all together? It would stop them from comparing notes, but the teachers already knew that they could keep the students quiet by simply asking them. Their current tactic had the apparent effect of making the first few students believe that it was just them, but the final few students would pick up on it after a while. 

“I think they’re trying to keep us relaxed,” Sally-Anne said. “Until after we had all met with a teacher, most of us didn’t realize that the others were all being talked to, too.” 

“So they divide and conquer,” Ron said. “I guess that makes sense, but why us?” 

“Good question,” Sally-Anne said. 

“Does this happen to you two all the time?” Neville asked. 

“Pretty much,” Ron said, with a hint of pride. While he didn’t like that he was always in danger, it did mean that the spotlight was always on him and his friends. Unfortunately for Ron, it was usually on his friends. 

“Like Sally-Anne said,” Ginny said, “what are they looking for?” 

“The Heir of Slytherin,” Harry said, coming through the portal. “That’s about all Professor Dumbledore wanted to talk to me about. That, and if I had heard the Basilisk recently.” 

“Wait, what?” Ginny asked. “What do you mean?” 

“Right,” Harry said. “I forgot, you two don’t know.” 

“Don’t know what?” Ginny asked. 

Even though Neville didn’t say anything, he was just as intrigued as Ginny. 

“I’m… sort of a parselmouth,” Harry said. 

Both Ginny’s and Neville’s eyes grew wide. 

“And neither of you had better tell _anyone_ that,” Ron said. “Neville, I know where you sleep during the year, and Ginny, we live together.” 

“Yeah, you’re _real_ scary, Ron,” Ginny said, rolling her eyes. “Of _course_ we’re not going to tell anyone. Right, Neville?” 

“Right,” Neville said, nodding. 

“Good,” Ron said. He felt that he should be standing up for his friend, since every time he or another friend had abandoned the group that year, something bad had happened. For Ron, he was attacked by the Basilisk after fighting with Hermione, and Harry had nearly been killed by Rose after the former had shouted at Sally-Anne. Not to mention that after that particular fight, Sally-Anne had been petrified. 

“Maybe they’re just trying to end all of this after last night,” Sally-Anne suggested, wondering why Ron was making a fool of himself standing up for Harry. It was sweet, but out of character for him. A quick peek into Ron’s mind gave Sally-Anne her answer. 

“But why only talk to us?” Neville asked. 

“Two of us were attacked,” Harry said. 

“But why not ask the Prefects?” Ginny asked. “They’re more likely to have seen something.” 

“ _I_ still think it’s Lockhart,” Ron muttered. 

“It was Quirrell last year,” Harry offered. 

“If the teachers think it’s him, then why talk to us?” Neville asked again. 

“Because they _don’t_ think it’s him.” 

They all turned to see Hermione climbing through the portal, with Rose popping into existence beside her. 

“They think it’s _Rose_ ,” Hermione finished. 

* * *

“Why did you want to talk with me, Professor?” Hermione asked Professor Vector as the two made their way to the Arithmancy Professor’s office. 

“Well, I wanted to know how you’ve been doing,” Professor Vector said. “Exams are approaching, and I’d hate to see such a bright young lady do horribly because of that monster.” 

“I’ve been doing alright, I guess. After last night, I’m a little on edge, but all in all, I’m okay.” 

“Very good,” Professor Vector said. “Have you given any thought to the electives you’re going to take next year?” 

“Erm… Actually, I… wanted to take all of them.” 

“I thought you might,” Septima replied, hiding a smile. She was proud of how ambitious the young Gryffindor was. “I’m not sure that Muggle Studies or Divination would be worth your time, Hermione.” 

“I think Muggle Studies will provide a different perspective on things, and I want to give Divination a try.” 

“Well, alright,” Professor Vector replied. “Just don’t overwhelm yourself.” 

“I won’t,” Hermione said, remembering her first few months at Hogwarts. “I’m not going to get carried away again.” 

“I’ll talk with Professor McGonagall to make sure that everything gets taken care of,” Professor Vector added. “Scheduling could be tricky.” 

“Thank you,” Hermione replied, smiling. 

As they reached Professor Vector’s office, the Arithmancy Professor said, “That’s not the only reason I wanted to talk to you, Hermione. I would like to talk about your friend Rose.” 

“What about her?” Hermione asked, quickly becoming worried. 

“At the beginning of the year, she heard the Basilisk in the school, and knew it was coming. Two of your friends were attacked by it, and a third by a Bludger. Rose has been in the middle of each of those incidents.” 

“What are you saying?” 

Professor Vector looked straight at Hermione. 

“When was the last time you or your friends couldn’t account for her whereabouts?” 

“Christmas,” Hermione answered without hesitation. “You know I’m not allowed to stray away from her.” 

“I know. Personally, I don’t believe she’s involved in this, but the other professors have their suspicions.” 

“Rose wouldn’t do that. She’s got better ways of killing people. Besides, the Basilisk nearly got me transferred. Why would Rose do something she knew would get me removed?” 

“I don’t think that was her plan, if she is behind it. I see the way she is with all of you. She’s protective of all of you, so I don’t believe she’s behind this.” 

“Then why mention this?” 

“There’s another theory,” Septima said. She knew she shouldn’t be telling a student so much about internal affairs of the staff, but Hermione was no normal student. She was bright enough to understand that she shouldn’t tell anyone. “Who might target Rose?” 

“Off the top of my head,” Hermione said. “Draco Malfoy, Vold–” Noticing the sour look on the Arithmancy Professor’s face, Hermione quickly said, “You-Know-Who, Quirrell, Lockhart, Professor Snape, maybe Professor McGonagall, dragons, most of Ravenclaw and Slytherin, some of the older Gryffindors…” 

“She’s not well liked, is she?” Septima said, amused by the lengthy list of people the girl had on the spot. 

“She’s… different,” Hermione replied. “Just like me. But she can’t hurt people; Ref’s under orders to tell her brother if she does.” 

“I’m sorry?” 

Hermione explained to Professor Vector the deal Rose had with Reflectesalon. She explained what would happen if Rose’s friends and family back on De’rok found out about her harming a student, and made sure to emphasize how much Rose _didn’t_ want any of it to happen. 

“I see,” Septima said after the Gryffindor had finished her explanation. She wasn’t sure how much of it she believed, only because the original source was Peta-Lorrum herself. 

“Thank you for your honesty, Hermione. Would you like me to walk you back to Gryffindor Tower?” 

“I assume Rose will be by shortly,” Hermione replied. “Thanks, Professor.” 

“Always happy to help, Hermione.” 

* * *

“What?!” exclaimed Ginny. “Why do they think it’s Rose?!” 

“Too much coincidence,” Rose said. “They also still don’t trust me.” 

“I think they just want this whole thing over with,” Hermione said. “They’re worried.” 

“I can end this any time,” Rose said. “But the professors don’t know I’m not behind it.” 

“So what?” Ron said. “Just kill the Basilisk without the teachers.” 

“I go in, I’m blind.” 

“You may not have a choice,” Harry said. 

“Harry’s right,” Sally-Anne said. “It sounds like the teachers are planning something.” 

“Do they know where the Chamber of Secrets is?” Ginny asked. 

“Why go through the trouble of talking to us if they do?” Hermione asked. 

“What if they want Rose’s help?” Neville asked. “You said they think she’s involved, right?” 

“So they’re trying to figure out if it’s alright to let Rose help!” Sally-Anne exclaimed. 

“Alright!” Ron said, happy with that conclusion. “So what do we do now?” 

“Nothing,” Rose said. “I handle this, and you lot stay safe.” 

“But–” Ron started, but Rose cut him off. 

“The Basilisk nearly killed two of you! I promised Hermione’s parents that I’d keep her safe, and I’d like it if at least _one_ adult would trust me!” 

“She’s right,” Hermione said. “Let’s just stay out of this.” 

“But–” Ron tried again, but this time it was Hermione that cut him off. 

“This isn’t our fight. We’re _children_! The teachers are more than capable of handling this without us! Let’s let them handle it, and stay safe!” 

“So we’re gonna run away?” Ron asked. 

“If anything happens to me, I’m gone!” shouted Hermione, losing her patience. “If anything happens to any of _you_ , I’m gone! I’ll be out of here by next week, and I’ll probably never see any of you ever again! So can we _please_ play it safe until this whole mess is done?!” 

Everyone was shocked by Hermione’s sudden outburst. People in the common room stared at her, and she suddenly felt small. 

“Hermione, are you alright?” Ginny asked after almost a minute of awkward silence. 

“I’m sorry for shouting,” Hermione said. “I honestly meant to say that without yelling. I’m just stressed because I’ve been worried the Basilisk is going to attack at any moment.” 

“We’ve all been on edge this year,” Sally-Anne said. 

“Don’t worry, Hermione,” Rose said, grinning. She patted her friend on the shoulder. “I’ll fix it. I can fix anything.” 

* * *

“Rose can’t be behind it,” Septima said that evening. “There’s no way.” 

“Her friends haven’t noticed any abnormal behavior,” Pomona added. 

“They don’t have any ideas as to whom the Heir might be, either,” Filius said. 

“Albus, they’re just as frightened as everyone else,” Minerva said. 

“I know,” Albus said. “That was the impression I got from the young Mr. Potter as well.” 

“Have you reached a decision?” Severus asked. 

“Yes,” Albus said. “We’ve had the time to prepare. This monster has been terrorizing our students for six months now. It is almost May, and we need to consider the possibility that the next victim will not be so lucky as Mr. Weasley was. Therefore, tomorrow morning we all gather here, but with a few additional members. I want all my staff here, except for Lockhart. I also want Rose with us. She will show us the way to the Chamber of Secrets, at which time we will enter it and eliminate the Basilisk.” 

“What if she’s in on it?” Severus asked. “We could be walking straight into a trap.” 

“That’s a risk we’ll have to take, Severus,” Albus said. “I am well aware that she could be involved, but she is also the only person, apart from the Heir himself, that knows where the Chamber of Secrets is. She will not be accompanying us _inside_ the Chamber, only to its entrance.” 

Albus looked out at his team of professors. They were some of the best minds in the world in their respective fields. A full-grown Basilisk was no easy opponent, but if anyone could manage it, it was his people. 

“Everyone, get some rest,” Albus said. “We finish this tomorrow.” 


	22. Entering the Dungeon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which errors are made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** Enter the dungeon and you will find that Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling.

The next morning, the staff gathered together once again. Everyone was a little on edge, knowing what they were about to do. Plans had been canceled, and the students were becoming suspicious. They knew something was wrong. 

“I have sent Fawkes to retrieve Ms. Peta-Lorrum,” Albus said. “I believe that will put her in a better mood, and we don’t want her on edge after yesterday.” 

“Why would she be on edge?” Bathsheda asked. 

“The students found out that we were investigating something,” Severus replied. “Peta-Lorrum gets touchy when she thinks we’re going after her friends to get to her.” 

“She will be guiding us to the Chamber of Secrets,” Albus said, hoping to keep everyone on track. “Once there, we will combine all of our strategies to defeat the Basilisk. Severus, Pomona, are you two stocked on your supplies?” 

“Yes, Albus,” Pomona said. 

Severus simply nodded. 

“Very good,” Albus said. “Severus, Minerva, Filius, and Pomona will accompany me into the Chamber of Secrets. Septima, Bathsheda, and Aurora, you three will stand guard by the entrance with Ms. Peta-Lorrum, and join us if the need arises. If something goes wrong and you are needed, you are to allow her to join you inside. She has proven herself capable of standing against the Basilisk, and we need all the help we can get. Poppy is already in the Hospital Wing on standby should we need her. Argus, Hagrid, Cuthbert, Charity, and Sybil are all going to watch over the students until we’re finished.” 

“What of Lockhart?” Minerva asked. 

“If he’s lucky, Mr. Lockhart will live long enough to collect his final paycheck,” Albus said. “Currently, he is distracted with self-replicating fan mail, courtesy of the Weasley Twins, I believe. He has already expressed a desire to leave at the end of the term. Something about a better offer, if I’m not mistaken.” 

“Probably leaving before people find out he’s a fraud,” Severus muttered. 

“Severus, we don’t know that,” Pomona said. “He could just be out of practice.” 

“Do you honestly believe that, Pomona?” Septima asked. 

“I’m keeping a good thought,” replied the Herbology Professor. 

“I believe we all are, Pomona,” Albus said wisely. “And I don’t necessarily mean about our current Defence Professor. If anything goes wrong today, someone will need to send word to Kingsley Shacklebolt immediately. Tell him to round up the usual suspects and ensure that the castle remains safe.” 

Everyone nodded. They all understood what that meant to some degree. 

“Right,” Albus said. “I suppose it’s time.” 

As they prepared to depart, they heard the sound of the gargoyle moving aside to allow someone access to the Headmaster’s Office. Each of the professors exchanged looks of confusion, as the only other person they were expecting would be arriving via phoenix. 

“Peta-Lorrum?” Bathsheda asked. 

“She doesn’t use the stairs,” Minerva said. 

The door opened to reveal the last two people any of them wanted to see. In his typical black overcoat and bowler hat was none other than Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic himself. Standing beside him, a sour, pretentious look on his face, was Lucius Malfoy. 

“Oh my,” Cornelius said. “I hope we’re not interrupting anything.” 

“Cornelius,” Albus said warmly. “To what do we owe the pleasure? Would you care for a lemon drop?” 

“This business with the Basilisk, Albus,” the Minister replied, ignoring the offer of candy. “The board has spoken. It nearly killed a girl a few months ago, and it’s got most of your students scared half to death. Enough is enough. Is the beast dead or not?” 

Albus knew he had two choices in front of him. He could state his case, make a compelling argument as to why the Minister should leave at once, even explain the complicated operation they were about to execute, but he knew it had already been decided. There was no point in arguing with the Minister. Lucius wouldn’t have been there if he thought there was a chance that Albus would remain at Hogwarts. No, the older Malfoy was there to watch a show. 

“I’m afraid not, Cornelius.” 

“Then you leave me with no choice. Albus Dumbledore, as Minister of Magic, I am removing you from your position as Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. This is effective immediately. The rest of you have–” 

_FWOOSH!_

In a burst of flame, a girl in a red cloak with dark red hair appeared in the middle of the room, with Albus’s pet bird perched on her arm. 

“That was fun!” she exclaimed, looking for all the world like a girl who had just heard that Christmas was coming twice that year, and not at all how Lucius had made the students sound. The girl looked around the room at what was most of Albus’s staff, stopping when she spotted Cornelius. “Salutations!” She curtsied. “You must be the High Emperor of Magic!” 

“Minister will do fine, little girl,” Cornelius said. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Lucius steal a glare at the girl. 

_Obviously not someone Lucius likes,_ thought Cornelius. _Better find out who she is._

“Albus, who exactly is she?” 

“Rose!” the girl exclaimed. “Rose Peta-Lorrum!” She curtsied again. At least she was polite. 

“Our guide,” Albus said. “You see, we were just about to handle the Basilisk when you and Lucius arrived.” 

“That’s ridiculous,” Lucius said. 

“How so?” Albus asked calmly. 

“No one’s been able to find the Chamber of Secrets in over 50 years,” Lucius scoffed. “What makes you think _she_ can?” 

“For many reasons that are long and complicated, of course,” the girl replied. “Speaking of complicated, how’ve you been, Goldilocks?” 

Several of the adults in the room strained themselves to not start laughing. Lucius Malfoy was known to control most of the Ministry of Magic, possibly including the Minister himself, and Rose Peta-Lorrum called him “Goldilocks”. The man could probably have her killed and get away with it, and she was treating him like she treated everyone else. 

“Peta-Lorrum, now’s not a good time,” Minerva hissed, being one of the few to see no humor in the situation. 

“We’re gonna go kill us a basilisk!” Peta-Lorrum exclaimed, apparently ignorant to the depth of her current situation. “Wanna come?” 

“You’re sending a child to fight it?” Cornelius asked. He knew Dumbledore was losing it, but the Minister didn’t think that the old man was so mad as to send in a child to fight a full-grown basilisk. 

“As I said, Rose is the only person who knows how to find the Chamber, Cornelius,” Albus replied. “She will show us where it is, then we will go in and kill the Basilisk.” He turned to face Rose. “ _She_ will be staying outside.” 

“Lame!” the girl exclaimed. 

Albus turned to look at Cornelius. “Now, I believe I am to join you?” 

“Wait, what?” Peta-Lorrum asked. “What’d I miss?” 

“Yes, you are,” Cornelius said, pleased that nothing was going wrong. “And as I was saying, the rest of you have 24 hours to deal with the Basilisk. Otherwise, the Ministry will take over. Good day to you all.” 

Rose watched as Professor Dumbledore left with Corny and Goldilocks. She turned to Professor McGonagall. 

“Well, what’s the plan?” 

* * *

In another part of the castle, preparations were being made by someone else. 

Dobby the House-elf was in a panic. He had to find Harry Potter quickly, before Master realized that Dobby was missing. If he didn’t find the boy before then, Harry Potter could die, and it would be all Dobby’s fault. He moved quickly through the castle, trying to find anyone that could help him. 

Fortunately for Dobby, he came across a young girl. Perhaps she could tell him where to find Harry Potter. 

“Dobby is begging your pardon, Miss,” Dobby said. “But is you knowing where to be finding Harry Potter?” 

The girl tilted her head, then looked in a book. She flipped through it for a moment, then read something on the page. 

Dobby tried to steal a peak in the book, but saw nothing. Was it magic ink? Wait a minute! That book looked an awful lot like Master’s diary! 

“He’s that way,” the girl replied in a serene voice, pointing down the corridor. “After the first right, take the second left, and you’ll see him before too long.” 

“Dobby is thanking you, Miss,” Dobby said. Without another word, the house-elf rushed off down the corridor, following the girl’s instructions exactly. 

It _couldn’t_ have been Master’s book. Why would a little girl have it? Rather, why would _that_ little girl have it? It was an orangey girl that was supposed to have it, not a ghostly girl! 

Instead of finding Harry Potter, Dobby ran straight into another house-elf. This one was younger than Dobby, and about an inch shorter, which was a lot to a house-elf. 

“Who is being you?” the other elf asked Dobby. 

Dobby noticed a Hogwarts crest sewn to the towel the other elf wore, and a sparkling blue seashell attached to a cord around the elf’s neck. 

“Dobby is looking for Harry Potter,” Dobby said, attempting to sound important. “You will be telling Dobby where he is being.” 

“Dripty will be doing no such thing!” the other elf exclaimed. 

“Then Dobby will be having to _make_ Dripty be telling him!” Dobby exclaimed. 

Dobby held out his hand, focusing energy within his palm. Dobby knew tricks that most house-elves didn’t, having lived in an older family. An older family meant older house-elves, which meant access to older house-elf magic. Magic that would be unknown to silly Hogwarts house-elves. 

Unfortunately for Dobby, while Dripty didn’t know old house-elf magic, he knew a new, Rose Peta-Lorrum trick. 

<Miss Rose!>

* * *

<Miss Rose! Miss Rose!>

<Dripty?> Rose asked. <What’s wrong?>

“Ms. Peta-Lorrum?” Professor McGonagall asked. “Are you–?” 

“Sh!” Rose said, holding up her finger. 

<There is being another house-elf in Hogwarts! But he is not being a Hogwarts house-elf! He is trying to be attacking Dripty!>

“Peta-Lorrum, what are–” Professor Snape began, but he too was shushed by the girl. 

<What’s he look like?> Rose asked. <Is he sickly with scars all over him?>

<Yes! How is Miss Rose knowing this?>

<Dobby,> Rose pathed. <He’s called Dobby. He was trying to stop Harry’s mail over the summer.>

<He was being mean to Harry Potter?!> gasped the elf. <He is saying he is trying to find Harry Potter!>

<Delay him as long as you can,> Rose replied, dropping her arm. “There’s a foreign house-elf in the school threatening one of the Hogwarts house-elves. Does anyone recognize the name ‘Dobby’?” 

“That’s Lucius Malfoy’s house-elf,” Professor Snape said. 

“He probably just joined Lucius when he ventured to the school,” Professor McGonagall said. 

“But why let the house-elf out of his sight?” Professor Vector asked. 

“Well, he’s terrorizing a Hogwarts elf,” Rose said. “ _And_ he tried to stop Harry’s mail over the summer.” 

“What was that about Potter?” Professor McGonagall asked. 

By now, Rose had already realized that the professors weren’t going to help Dripty fast enough. She expanded her picnic basket and called out Intelligencer. 

“Int, I need you to find Dripty. I’ll give you a location when you’re on the way. Help him out however you can.” 

Intelligencer nodded, then flew off out of the room. 

<Dripty, help is on the way.>

<Dripty is thanking you, Miss Rose!>

Rose smiled. She loved that little elf. 

“Ms. Peta-Lorrum, what did you say about Mr. Potter?” Professor McGonagall asked impatiently, trying hard not to let the flying ferret thing distract her. “It could be important.” 

“Goldilocks’s house-elf was trying to stop Harry’s mail over the summer,” Rose replied. “I don’t know why. Ref didn’t get a chance to get in his head.” 

“That’s odd, but irrelevant,” Professor McGonagall said. “Most likely the young Malfoy attempting to interfere with Potter. We’ll address it _after_ we’ve gotten the Basilisk taken care of.” 

“Are you ready?” Professor McGonagall asked the crimson-haired girl. 

“Yup,” Rose replied. She pulled out _Serendipity_ and _power surged_ her. In Dwarven, she whispered, “ _I wish I knew the path to the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets._ ” 

Immediately, her head was filled with the exact directions to her desired location. _Find the path_ was a wonderful spell; there was no requirement about visiting the location previously, or even an XP cost. It just showed the caster the way to a specified location, and _Serendipity_ could replicate it perfectly. 

“Got it,” Rose said. “Onward!” 

* * *

As Rose led her strike team to the first floor, students stopped and stared at the group of teachers. Most of them were curious as to why there were so many teachers together, all of whom seemed to be following Rose Peta-Lorrum. Any questions were deflected by quick words from Minerva or a glare from Severus. 

“Question,” Rose said. “What happens if the Ministry takes over?” 

“The school will be closed down,” Minerva replied. “Students of influential families will be pampered and tended to, while everyone else, including most Half-blood and Muggle-born students, will be ignored. A strike team of Aurors and specialists will be sent in to deal with the Basilisk, but that probably won’t happen immediately. First it must be determined that a team is necessary, which likely won’t happen for a few months. After that, the board of directors will vote on a new headmaster, since there won’t be any possibility of reinstating Professor Dumbledore. In fact, if anyone is killed, he will be tried for murder.” 

“Wow,” Rose said. “That’s not normal, is it?” 

“Unfortunately, it has become increasingly standard,” Minerva told the girl. “The Minister is suspicious of Professor Dumbledore, believing that the Headmaster seeks his position. These paranoid delusions are fueled by members of the Ministry seeking to overthrow Professor Dumbledore.” 

“I’m gonna take a wild guess and say that Goldilocks is one of them,” the crimson-haired said. 

“You’d be correct.” 

“Figures,” Rose huffed. “The government isn’t exactly trustworthy back home, either. The five continents are _supposed_ to work together, but usually only the eastern ones do. That’s Halflings, Dwarves, and Gnomes. The three actually get along quite well. Humans are usually neutral, but Elves don’t care about anyone except themselves. They’ve gotten better over the past few years, mostly due to the massive power shift caused by Uncle Oz’s restructuring of Arcrel, Sk’lar taking over Episti, and Professor Selaera following suit with Univra.” 

Minerva normally didn’t want to play into the girl’s delusions, but for the moment, she had nothing better to do with her time. Not to mention hearing stories might distract her from their impending fight with a basilisk. 

_Might as well humor the girl_ , she thought. 

“What are those?” the Headmistress asked. 

“The Academies,” she replied. “The heads of each advise the Elven Royal Family. Episti used to have the most pull, but Sk’lar willingly reduced the amount of power he had when he took over. He wanted them all to be equal.” 

“The schools control the government?” Minerva asked. 

“They’re just advisers. The Elves have got their royalty, the Humans have got a bunch of politicians that don’t get along, the Dwarves are led by the Field Marshal, and the Gnomes have got their Council of Elders. The Halflings used to, but Thars, the capital, was destroyed a few years back, so until they rebuild, the council is scattered.” 

“I see,” Minerva said. She was impressed by how thorough this imaginary world of Peta-Lorrum’s was. The girl had distinct races, a language for each one, even governments of varying effectiveness. Minerva wouldn’t have thought that the girl was that dedicated, nor had the capacity for such thought. It wasn’t that Peta-Lorrum wasn’t clever, but rather that she had “the attention span of a fly”, to quote Weasley. 

“Field Marshal Turlek’s nice. It’s hard to earn his respect, but once you do, you’ve got a friend for life. He sent Mr. Grund and some of the other Dwarves to help with the reconstruction on Luna.” 

“Luna Lovegood?” Minerva asked. 

“No, there’s a continent back home called Luna, along with its twin, Sola. It _was_ the Halfling home, but it was burned to the ground. Dwarves, Halflings, Gnomes, and I think some of the Leonals are all working together to restore it.” 

“What are ‘Leonals’?” asked Septima, who had been listening to the entire conversation. 

“When Sk’lar was evacuating everyone, he opened a _gate_ to Elysium, where a bunch of the Leonals helped get everyone to safety. They recognized Carolina’s status as a Chosen of the Paragons and were _more_ than happy to help out.” 

“And your friends just _happened_ to be there?” Professor Snape asked. 

“They were the targets,” Rose replied. “Anyway, like I said, the eastern continents work together well. Not so much the western ones.” 

* * *

“Dobby will not be finding Harry Potter!” Dripty exclaimed for the fifth time. 

Dripty wasn’t doing well against the foreign elf, but he didn’t need to beat him, only delay him until help arrived. Miss Rose was sending help, and Dripty had caught sight of Miss Rose’s pet ferret earlier. The flying creature was keeping tabs on them, hopefully reporting back to Miss Rose. 

The intruder knew a lot of magic that Dripty didn’t, which was starting to frighten Dripty. But Dobby was impatient to return to his search for Harry Potter, a fact which Dripty exploited. Every time Dobby believed that Dripty was defeated, he would drop his guard, and Dripty would get in a good hit. 

Just as Dobby was about to throw another spell at Dripty, something happened that neither of them expected. They heard humming from down the corridor, and Dripty grew excited. 

“Miss Rose!” he exclaimed, but his heart sank when he saw that it was not Miss Rose humming. And his hope turned to terror when she saw what she was holding. 

Under one arm, the girl with ghostly blonde hair held a black book. In the other hand, she held a mirror. She had it angled so that Dripty could see a pair of burning, yellow eyes in the reflection. As Dripty saw it, everything around him went dark. 

Dobby looked at the unconscious house-elf, then at the girl that had told him where to find Harry Potter. His eyes grew wide as he realized that the book _was_ Master’s diary. There was no other explanation for what had just happened. Master had said that the diary would cause something bad to happen at Hogwarts, and it was. 

Dobby fled in horror the instant he recognized the book the girl was carrying. The house-elf didn’t know how she had Master’s diary, but he wasn’t going to stay to find out. 

The girl smiled to herself as she deposited the mirror in her haversack. Opening her book, she looked down at the words beginning to form on the page. 

“Alright, Mummy,” she said. “Now what do I do?” 

* * *

Just as they reached the first floor, their crimson-haired guide stopped walking. 

“Ms. Peta-Lorrum?” Minerva asked. “Is something wrong?” 

“Very,” the girl replied. “Very, very wrong.” She broke into a run, forcing the professors to sprint to keep up with the girl. She was surprisingly fast for someone so short. 

“What’s going on?!” demanded Severus, running to keep pace with the little girl. 

“Change in Dripty’s _status_!” came the reply. “He was attacked!” 

“Ms. Peta-Lorrum, we don’t have time–” 

“We’re making time!” she shouted at them. “Dripty wasn’t just attacked; I’m getting his _status_ as petrified!” 

“The Basilisk attacked your house-elf friend?” Minerva asked, still wrapping her mind around this girl being friends with a house-elf. On the other hand, if it had to be any student, Minerva wasn’t surprised that it was her. 

More importantly, why did the Basilisk go after a house-elf? 

Then the answer struck her: The students were being monitored by the portraits or the staff, but the house-elves were on alert. They were susceptible to the Basilisk, and easy targets at that, so long as they didn’t hear it coming. 

They knew they were there when they reached it. On the ground was a house-elf, petrified, with a look of sheer terror on his face. On his tea towel there was a crest of Hogwarts, denoting that he was an honored house-elf, and around his neck he wore a blue seashell. 

Not too far from him was a small blue and black striped ferret with wings. Unlike the house-elf, its eyes were closed, which meant it was either dead or unconscious. 

“Int, wake up!” the crimson-haired girl called as she rushed to the side of her house-elf friend. 

The ferret slowly rose to its feet, apparently mostly immune to the Basilisk. 

“How is the ferret unharmed?” Professor Vector asked. 

“Int’s a construct,” Rose replied. “Not technically alive, so he’s immune to death-effects, but it still knocked him unconscious.” 

The other professors surveyed the surrounding area. It was Severus that spotted it first. It was written high enough on the wall that it wasn’t immediately obvious. 

“Peta-Lorrum, you should probably see this,” Severus said. 

“Busy,” Rose replied absently. 

<Rose, look up,> Reflectesalon and Intelligencer ordered. 

Following the instructions of her item familiar, Rose looked up from Dripty’s petrified body. What she saw made the situation go from bad to worse. 

There, on the wall, written in what was probably blood, was a message. 

_HER SKELETON WILL LIE IN THE CHAMBER FOREVER_

Pomona gasped when she read it. 

“No,” breathed Septima. 

“Whose skeleton?” Bathsheda asked. 

“We’ll find out,” Minerva said. She turned to their crimson-haired companion. “Ms. Peta-Lorrum, can you–” 

“Not easily,” the second-year replied, her eyes returning to the house-elf. “It’ll be faster to just do a head count.” She tapped Dripty with _Serendipity_. “ _I wish he were restored._ ” 

“AH!” shrieked the house-elf. He was joined by some of the professors, some of them never having witnessed Rose restore one of the students. 

“What is–” Realizing that everything was different, Dripty darted his head around the area, attempting to take in everything at once. The instant he saw Miss Rose, he latched onto her. 

“Miss Rose! Dripty is being so happy to be seeing you!” 

“I’m happy to be seeing you too, Dripty, but right now, I need you to return to the House-Elf Common Room,” she said. “Did Dobby say anything?” 

“Dobby said he was looking for Harry Potter! He was trying to stop Harry Potter from being attacked!” 

“That’s odd,” Rose said. “I was under the impression he was trying to interfere with Harry, not _help_ him.” 

Minerva realized that their guide was going to be occupied for a few minutes, so she turned to her other companions. 

“I want all students to return to their rooms immediately,” Minerva said. “Pomona, Severus, and Filius, do a head count of each of your students. Septima, Bathsheda, and Aurora, you help them round up the students, then have the Gryffindor prefects do a head count. I want to know who was taken into the Chamber of Secrets ten minutes ago.” 

“Rose?” Pomona said. “Are you alright?” 

Minerva turned to face the crimson-haired girl again, and saw why the Herbology Professor was asking about her. The girl was staring into space with her wand held to her face. 

“Who?” Severus asked. He wasn’t certain, but that look had all the signs that the girl knew who was in the Chamber of Secrets. 

“Luna,” Rose replied, not moving her wand. The normally confident girl had faltered, her eyes full of confusion. “I checked Hermione’s _status_ , and thought I’d check on Luna for good measure. They’re the only two of my friends that _haven’t_ had a run-in with _something_ this year.” She tilted her head ever so slightly. “I guess Neville and Ginny haven’t either.” 

“Are you _sure_ it’s her?” Aurora asked the girl. 

“She’s in the same spot the Basilisk was back in November.” 

“ _You wanted the hard way_ ,” Rose heard a familiar voice say. “ _We could’ve done this words, not with weapons._ ” 

Rose began to shake with anger. The owner of that voice was going after her friends, and now it was targeting her surrogate little sister. Luna was sweet and innocent, and still suffering through losing her mum. 

That voice didn’t know it, but it was playing with fire. 

“Rose, it’s alright,” Pomona said kindly. “We’ll get her out of there.” 

“This isn’t fear,” Rose said calmly. Her tone had changed. She was no longer timid as she had just been. “This is _anger_.” She turned to Minerva. “Round up the students, get them safely into the Common Rooms. _Don’t_ let them out until this is resolved.” 

“Ms. Peta-Lorrum, might I remind you of your place in all of this?” Minerva said. “ _You_ are the student, not the teacher.” 

“But _I_ can look the Basilisk right in the eye and not die,” Rose shot back. “ _I_ know where to find the Basilisk, and I’ve killed far stronger monsters than it.” 

Minerva glared at the girl, who stared back at her. For once in her life, the girl was serious. 

“You can’t honestly expect me to allow you to go in there alone, Ms. Peta-Lorrum,” Minerva said finally. 

“I don’t need to enter it to remove Little Moon,” Rose shot back. “But I _do_ want my other friends watched. I’m going to bring Luna to the Hospital Wing, and my friends along with her, so someone needs to go with me.” 

The rest of the staff turned to Minerva. What happened next was her call, and they all knew it. 

“ _I_ will accompany you to the Hospital Wing, Ms. Peta-Lorrum,” she said. “And _you_ will not make a habit of giving me orders. Is that understood?” 

“This ends, I don’t do it anymore,” the girl replied. “Professor McGonagall, Hospital Wing. Everyone else, students.” 

Each of the staff looked to the Acting Headmistress. 

“You heard her,” Minerva said. “All of you, verify that the other students are safe. If you don’t hear from me within 10 minutes, go to the Hospital Wing immediately. We’ll regroup there and take this thing out.” 

Dripty apparated as the other professors began to run to their respective common rooms, with the additional professors on their heels. 

“Ms. Peta-Lorrum, how–” 

No sooner had Minerva looked at the girl than they appeared in the Hospital Wing, startling Madame Pomfrey. 

“Ms. Peta-Lorrum, how many times?!” she shrieked. 

“Another time, Poppy,” Minerva said quickly. “Luna Lovegood has been taken into the Chamber of Secrets.” 

Poppy gasped, bringing her hands to her mouth. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Minerva saw Peta-Lorrum waving her wand. 

“What are you–” 

Her question was answered as Hermione Granger, Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, Ginny Weasley, Sally-Anne Perks, and Neville Longbottom all appeared in the Hospital Wing. 

But most astounding of all was the final person. Luna Lovegood now rested in Peta-Lorrum’s arms. The crimson-haired girl gingerly laid the Ravenclaw down on one of the beds. 

“What’s going on?!” Ron shouted. 

“How’d we get here?” Ginny asked. 

“Rose did it,” Hermione said, not needing to so much as think about her answer. “Luna!” 

“What’s wrong with her?” Harry asked. 

“Recap: Dripty was attacked and Luna was taken into the Chamber of Secrets,” Rose said. “End of recap.” 

Poppy rushed over to the girl’s bed and began firing off a volley of analysis charms on the girl. She checked for anything and everything that popped into her head. 

“Why isn’t she awake?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“She’s alive,” Madame Pomfrey said. “She’s fading fast. Something seems to be draining her!” 

“Draining her of what?” Rose demanded. 

“Her life,” Madame Pomfrey replied. “I’m sorry, but that’s the easiest way I can describe it.” 

“Why are we here?” Neville asked. 

“Something’s been targeting me,” Rose said, still not taking her eyes off Luna. “First Harry, then Sally-Anne, Ron, Dripty, now Luna. Something’s been going after my friends, but I’m going to put a stop to it.” 

“First we should find out what’s wrong with Luna,” Sally-Anne said, worried that everything seemed to be happening awful fast. 

“What could be doing this?” Rose asked Professor McGonagall. 

“I’m sorry, Ms. Peta-Lorrum, but I don’t know.” 

“Anyone?!” Rose shouted, her desperation becoming more apparent. 

“Rose,” Harry said, staring at the wall. “Look at this.” 

They all looked above the bed in which Luna lay. Above it, written in blood, was a message for Rose. 

_YOU HAVE FREED HER BODY, LITTLE ROSIE, BUT HER SOUL IS MINE._

“What’s that mean?” Ron asked. 

“How’d that get there?” Neville asked. 

“Magic,” Ginny muttered. “Duh!” 

“It means the Heir is keeping her like this,” Hermione said. “There’s nothing we can do.” 

“Not from here,” Professor McGonagall said. “Ms. Peta-Lorrum and I will venture into the Chamber and–” 

“No,” Rose said. “Not you, just me.” 

“Ms. Peta-Lorrum, I believe I asked you stop giving me orders.” 

“You did, and I’m ignoring you,” Rose replied, looking straight at the Transfigurations Professor. “Professor, if you leave, there will be no one to stop the Basilisk from coming after them. We both know the staff is spread too thin keeping the other students safe. With Professor Dumbledore gone, it’s down to us. It can’t be you to go in, because I’m the only one who knows where to go. I’ll pick up Lockhart on the way if you’re so concerned about me going alone.” 

“I’d be _more_ concerned if he went with you,” McGonagall said. “Be careful. You don’t know what’s down there.” 

_Serendipity_ appeared in Rose’s hand, and she _power surged_ her, twice for good measure, _extending_ both of them. That was eight charges for forty minutes. Rose wasn’t sure how long this was going to take, but she was confident that it wouldn’t take that long. 

“I’m going in,” Rose said. “Don’t follow me.” 

“Wasn’t planning on it,” Harry and Ron muttered. 

As Minerva watched the young Gryffindor leave the Hospital Wing, something occurred to her. The Basilisk had been targeting Peta-Lorrum’s friends the entire year. It had gone so far as to wait for an opportunity on one of them, ignoring the several opportunities it had to attack other students. As hard as Minerva and the rest of the staff tried, Hogwarts remained almost completely unmonitored. It wasn’t as bad as it had been before the use of the portraits, but the Basilisk must have had plenty of opportunities to attack the other students. 

Minerva acknowledged that her colleagues were correct: Peta-Lorrum was somehow involved in this. Knowing what she did about the girl’s strengths, Minerva _hoped_ that she wasn’t the one causing the attacks, but there was always that possibility. 

Regardless, the situation in which Minerva now found herself was one with every one of the Basilisk’s targets in one area, a single exit from that area, and the person it feared had just left them. 

Minerva paled. 

Peta-Lorrum had just rounded up everyone into the same room, with only two members of the staff to protect them. After that, she crafted an excuse to leave them alone, making them completely susceptible to the Basilisk. 

Three possibilities came to mind: Peta-Lorrum was behind it and wanted to kill her friends; Peta-Lorrum _wasn’t_ behind it and needed to use them as bait to lure away the Basilisk; or Peta-Lorrum didn’t realize that there was only one exit from the Hospital Wing. Given how infrequently the girl used doors, it was probably the third one. 

“Children,” Minerva said calmly, her eyes fixed on the entrance. “Don’t panic.” 

“Professor?” Granger asked. 

“You six get Lovegood to Poppy’s office,” Minerva said, no longer concerning herself with professionalism. “Poppy, you and I need to be ready.” 

“For what?” Poppy asked. 

“Children, now!” Minerva shouted. 

The children weren’t sure why they were receiving orders to hide, but they didn’t question them. Neville picked up Luna and carried her into Madame Pomfrey’s office. 

“Poppy, now you,” Minerva said, her wand at the ready. 

“Minerva, I–” 

“Now, Poppy,” Minerva said, keeping her voice calm. She watched the entrance to the Hospital Wing, knowing what would come in only moments. 

As Poppy began to walk towards her office, the Basilisk smashed through the wall of the Hospital Wing, blocking the only exit. 


	23. I'm Sick of These Gromphun Snakes in This Gromphun Castle!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which, after a year of frightening everyone, the Basilisk dies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** Basilisks are not owned by J.K. Rowling, but, like the rest of the Harry Potter Universe, this one is.

Rocks exploded as the Basilisk ripped apart the wall. Poppy glanced at the children retreating to her office, and was rewarded for her concern with a chunk of stone to her head. The Mediwitch slumped to the ground, unconscious. 

“Everybody run!” Minerva shouted, quickly putting herself between the snake and the children. She closed her eyes and began to cast her defences. 

Minerva’s first spell spread out from her like a wave, covering the entire Hospital Wing. As it touched the stone around her, it transfigured it all into ball bearings, amplifying the sound of all movement within the walls. With a second wave of her wand, several of the ball bearings rose up around her, and spikes protruded from each one. They circled Minerva as she listened to the footsteps of the children retreating to Poppy’s office. 

Hearing a shuffling of the bearings in front of her, Minerva hurled several of her lethal projectiles towards the sound. She smirked as she heard the Basilisk hiss in pain. 

“Everybody in!” Hermione shouted. 

Harry and Ron dragged the Mediwitch’s unconscious body inside of her office, while Hermione kept an eye on the Basilisk. 

Hermione watched in awe as Professor McGonagall cast her spells, and immediately understood the purpose of the ball bearings. 

_She’s certainly prepared_ , thought Hermione, reminding herself that Professor McGonagall wasn’t just another professor; right now, she was acting headmistress. There was a good reason for that. 

“Is everyone alright?” Hermione asked as she slammed the door. 

“Yeah,” Ron said, looking around the room. 

“I’m alright,” Harry said. 

“Safe,” Ginny added. 

No one was sure how they had managed it, but they were all alive. None of them had taken a look at the Basilisk, apart from Hermione, and no one had noticed that she’d looked straight at it and not died. 

“So that’s it, then?” Ron asked as he and Harry settled Madame Pomfrey’s unconscious body in a corner. “We wait here until the Basilisk kills Professor McGonagall, then comes back for us?” 

“What else can we do?” Neville asked. 

Hermione thrust her hand into her pocket and grabbed the _condition conch_. Rose would get her out of this. 

<Rose, the Basilisk is attacking the Hospital Wing!> Hermione pathed. <We need you!>

Hermione waited, but there was nothing. Why wasn’t there any response? 

“Hermione, what’s wrong?” Ginny asked. 

“Basilisk!” Ron shouted. 

“Not that,” Hermione said, releasing the _condition conch_ in her pocket. “I’m not getting any response from Rose.” 

“What?!” Ginny shouted. “Can’t she apparate?” 

“It’s not the same thing, but it’s close enough,” Hermione replied. “That’s not the point.” She held up the _condition conch_. “This allows me to communicate with her telepathically, but she’s not responding. We’re on our own.” 

It hurt a little, knowing that Rose was letting her down like this. Why? What was taking Rose so long in the Chamber of Secrets? Was she alright? 

Hermione looked down at the seashell in her hand. Rose knew how she was doing so long as she had it with her. Did _that_ work both ways? Hermione tried concentrating on her friend, but she didn’t get anything. She was expecting some sort of feeling, but she didn’t feel any different. It wasn’t working. 

“Then it’s up to us, right?” Ginny asked. 

Ginny was ready for action. She had been studying fire spells after Hermione had taught her that spell towards the start of the term. Also, Rose told her it would be a good idea. This was usually followed up with the phrase “ _Dreda drisi gil_ ”. Ginny still didn’t know what it meant, but it sounded cool. 

Neville, on the other hand, didn’t want to be there, so he kept hoping that Professor Dumbledore or Rose would come and save them. One of them would have a plan; Neville knew first-hand that Rose always thought of something, and his gran had nothing but respect for Professor Dumbledore. 

“Even Professor McGonagall can’t hold it off forever,” Harry said. “We’ve got to do something.” 

Harry was tired of always being in the spotlight. He was tired of people acting like he was some brave hero, even though he was just Harry, but at that moment, none of that mattered. The right thing to do was to help Professor McGonagall stop the Basilisk. Not for the fame or glory, but because it was the right thing to do. 

“What can _we_ do against a basilisk?” Neville asked. 

“We’ll die in seconds,” Sally-Anne agreed. 

Sally-Anne wanted to be there even less than Neville. She was conflicted between wanting to keep all of her friends safe, and being terrified to step out of that door and face her worst nightmare. Sally-Anne had never been so scared in her life. 

_You’re gonna go far, Princess._

Sally-Anne wasn’t sure why Rose called her “Princess”, but she was wrong. Sally-Anne couldn’t stand the thought of leaving the relative safety of that office. She wasn’t going anywhere. 

“We’d stand a chance if we could just take out its eyes,” Ron said. 

Unlike literally everyone else in that room, Ron was almost excited. He was terrified to face the Basilisk again, but unlike two nights ago, he would be ready for it this time. It was just like chess, but with a bigger piece against them, and a lot more variables to consider. 

Fortunately for Ron, he had his friends as his pieces, and there was no way they’d let him down. 

“But we can’t do that when we’ll die just looking at it!” Sally-Anne exclaimed. 

“Hermione, isn’t there some way to stop its eyes from killing us?” Ginny asked. 

“I don’t know,” Hermione said. “We need a way to see its eyes without looking at them.” 

“What about the Air Eyes Charm?” Ron asked. 

“We can’t get fine detail with it,” Hermione said. “Not fine enough to attack its eyes.” 

“I’ve got it!” Ron exclaimed. “Dad says the Ministry uses a magic tag on fugitives that only they can see! We could tag the Basilisk and see it without looking at it!” 

“The Basilisk is resistant to magic, but we could tag something and throw it at it!” Hermione exclaimed. “That’s brilliant!” 

“How do they see the tag?” Harry asked. 

“With a locator spell,” Hermione said. “You don’t ‘see’ it, exactly, but it’ll work!” 

“You’d still be able to see its eyes,” Sally-Anne said. 

“You can close your eyes!” Hermione said. “The tag is mental, not physical! You just enchant something to let you see it.” 

“Closing your eyes won’t work,” Ron said. “I nearly opened them a lot the other night, but it’s the best we’ve got right now. Can you cast the locator spell?” 

“It’s in one of my books,” Hermione said, pulling a book out of her pack. 

“If you two say it’ll work, I believe you,” Harry said. 

“Me too,” Ginny said. 

Sally-Anne nodded and smiled. She was trying hard not to think about the Basilisk’s cold, evil eyes. She could still see them sometimes in her nightmares. They always stared at her, threatening to come after her and finish the job the Basilisk had started. 

“How do we tag it?” Harry asked. “Don’t we need to see it first?” 

“Throw your sticky stuff at its body,” Ginny suggested. “Then you don’t have to–” 

“I don’t know that it’ll work long term,” Hermione said. “It’s just for taking out its eyes, so we’d need to hit its eyes with whatever we’re throwing, and make it distinct from the rest of it. We’ll need something sticky, like glue, syrup, honey…” 

“How are we gonna get any of that stuff?” Ron asked. 

“It’s a shame we can’t get to the kitchens,” Ginny said. 

“Ginny that’s brilliant!” Hermione exclaimed. “Rose gave Dripty another _condition conch_ like mine!” 

“Who’s Dripty?” Ginny asked. 

“The house-elf that helped us last year,” Sally-Anne said. “It’ll take a lot of syrup to cover it.” 

“Hogwarts must buy everything in bulk,” Hermione said. “I’ll ask Dripty to bring as much of it as he can.” 

“Brilliant!” Ron exclaimed. 

“What’s the point?” Neville asked. “If Professor Dumbledore can’t stop it, then–” 

“He never got a shot at it,” Ron said. “This thing’s been terrorizing us all year, but now _we’ve_ got a shot at it. We can do this!” 

“Dripty’s on his way with all the honey in Hogwarts,” Hermione said. “He’s moving as fast as he can. We still need to apply it, then figure out how to take out its eyes. Professor McGonagall can probably take it from there.” 

“How can we drop the honey on it if we can’t see it?” Sally-Anne asked. 

Hermione had considered that before, and she had a solution. She wasn’t sure if she should tell her friends, but they might die if she didn’t. 

“I can.” 

Her friends all stared at her. 

“What?!” Ron exclaimed. 

“It’s the reason I was allowed to come back at all after the winter holiday. Never mind how, let’s just say Rose did it and leave it at that.” 

“What do we do after we’ve taken out its eyes?” Ginny asked. 

“Let Professor McGonagall handle it,” Neville said. 

“It looked like she transfigured the floor and walls into ball bearings,” Hermione replied. “Whenever the Basilisk moves, she hears it, and hurls some sort of blades at it. I couldn’t see clearly, but they almost looked like throwing stars.” 

“Throwing stars?” Ron asked. 

“Like stars, but made of metal,” Harry said. 

“She’s not going to last long out there,” Sally-Anne muttered. “It’s probably toying with her.” 

“Keep it together,” Harry said. “I don’t think throwing stars are good enough. Unless she gets a lucky shot, Professor McGonagall doesn’t stand a chance. How do we kill it?” 

“Oh!” Ginny exclaimed. “We set it on fire!” 

Everyone stared at Ginny with concern on their faces. Ginny stared back at them, looking far more excited than she should have, given her suggestion. 

“I think you’ve spent too much time around Rose,” Sally-Anne said. 

“Like she says: _Dreda drisi gil!_ ” Ginny exclaimed. 

“What’s that mean?” Ron asked. 

“Dunno, but she says it every time I bring up fire.” 

“Basilisk isn’t flammable enough,” Hermione said. “You’d need something else to use as an accelerant, such as petrol.” 

“A what?” Ginny asked. 

“Something to make it burn better,” Hermione explained. “And before you ask, honey won’t work. It might actually make it worse, but Professor McGonagall could always banish it once we’re–” 

CRACK! 

A house-elf appeared with a barrel of honey. Balanced on top of the barrel was a pair of buckets. 

“This is being the entire supply of honey,” Dripty said. “Dripty is telling Miss Atrien that you is needing this to save Professor McGonagall, and Miss Atrien is ordering everyone to be getting it.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Is Miss Hermione needing Dripty’s help?” 

“I need you to levitate those buckets above the Basilisk exactly where I say. I’ll take care of the barrel.” 

“Dripty will do his best, Miss Hermione!” 

“We should enchant a blindfold or something with the locator spell,” Ron said. “It’s hard to keep–” 

“You said that already,” Hermione said. “A blindfold won’t necessarily block out all light.” 

“What about my glasses?” Harry asked. “Can we paint them black or something?” 

“We haven’t got–” 

“Dripty has an idea!” Dripty vanished and reappeared within seconds carrying bread dough. Without a word, he grabbed Harry’s glasses, slapped some dough on them, then ignited the dough. “Done!” 

“That was brilliant!” Ginny exclaimed. 

Harry took his glasses back, but with burnt dough on the lenses, they were useless as glasses. 

“I can’t see a thing,” he said. 

“Good,” Hermione replied, taking his glasses. After a wave of her wand, she handed them back to him. 

“Still can’t see.” 

“That’s what we want,” Hermione said. “Now, the moment of truth.” With Dripty’s help, she pried the lid off the barrel of honey and waved her wand over it. 

Harry jumped as the barrel lit up. 

“Can you see that?” Hermione asked. 

“Clearly.” 

“Brilliant!” Ron exclaimed, excited that their plan was coming together. “What else can we do to this thing? How are we going to take out its eyes?” 

Everyone looked at one another, but no one had any ideas. While they did, Hermione tagged the buckets of honey, and everyone inside the room, including Harry himself. 

“Dripty… Dripty might be helping.” 

He took something tucked into his tea towel and handed it to the closest person. 

“Is that the Sorting Hat?” Neville asked, taking the black hat he was handed. 

“I think so,” Harry said, squinting with his glasses off. 

“Miss Atrien was giving it to Dripty,” Dripty explained. “Miss Atrien is saying that Professor Dumbledore gave it to her for an emergency.” 

“Hold on, there’s something stuck in here,” Neville said. “Let me see if I can get it out.” He felt around for the end of the object, then pulled it out of the hat. 

Everyone stared at what Neville held in his hand. 

“That’s a sword,” Neville said. 

“It’s beautiful,” Sally-Anne breathed. 

“Oh! I know!” Ginny exclaimed. “We can gouge out its eyes with the sword!” 

Sally-Anne, Ron, Hermione, and Neville all stared at Ginny. 

“ _Way_ too much time around Rose,” Sally-Anne said. 

“It’s still all we’ve got,” Ron said. “Now we can take out its eyes. What about the rest of it?” 

“Fire!” exclaimed Ginny. “I can–” 

“Not without an accelerant,” Hermione said. “And I can’t craft a spell to conjure some into existence.” 

“What about purifying the oxygen around it?” Harry asked. 

Hermione stared at him. 

“I saw it in a documentary over the summer,” Harry said. “Well, I _heard_ it. I’m not allowed to watch TV.” 

“What’s TV?” Ron asked. 

“Irrelevant to this conversation,” Hermione said. “If Rose were here, she could cast _divine enlightenment_ on me, and I could craft a spell to increase the concentration around the Basilisk. That would allow us to hit it with a jet of flame and it would explode and catch on fire, no matter how resistant it is to magic.” 

“So–” Ron began. 

“But _without_ Rose here, I can’t do anything. I can’t make up a spell on the spot like that!” 

“What about the dimensional prison last year?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“Those were just counter runes. We’re talking about altering the laws of physics to fit our needs! That’s _way_ beyond me! Maybe in a few years, and given several days to work on it, but not in a matter of _minutes_!” 

“Hermione, we might _actually_ kill a basilisk,” Ron said. “Please, just try.” 

Hermione sighed, and pulled out some of her Arithmancy books, and a chemistry book she had with her just in case. “I’ll _try_. But I’d need a similar spell if I’ve even got a _shot_ at it.” 

“ _Defaecorus_ ,” Ron replied. “ _Standard Book of Spells, Volume III_. Spell to purify gas from the air. That’s similar, right?” 

“How in Merlin’s name do you know that?” Ginny asked. 

“We only ever get Bill and Charlie’s hand-me-downs, so I read all seven volumes of the _Standard Book of Spells_ ,” Ron replied. “It’s easier for me than just about everyone else.” 

“Thanks, Ron,” Hermione said, using _scholar’s touch_ to refresh her memory of the third volume of the _Standard Book of Spells_. 

“Ginny,” Ron said, turning to his little sister. “If she does whatever she just said, can you hit it with a fire spell?” 

Ginny grinned, reminding Ron of Rose. 

“Are you asking me to light something on fire?” she asked. 

“Don’t tell Mum, but yes,” Ron said. “Can you set the Basilisk on fire?” 

“Yes,” Ginny replied. “Yes, I can.” 

“We should decide who’s going to attack the Basilisk,” Neville said, still holding the sword. 

“I will,” Harry said. “They’re still my glasses, so that tag will probably be blurry to anyone except me. It’s got to be me.” 

“No!” Sally-Anne cried. 

“I’ll be alright,” Harry said. He forced a smile. “Just make sure you’re ready to come rescue me if I mess up.” 

Sally-Anne nodded, then threw her arms around him. “Be careful.” 

“I will,” Harry said, returning the hug. 

“Good luck,” Ginny said quietly. 

“You’ll do great, mate,” Ron said. 

Neville nodded his agreement, handing Harry the sword. 

“Before I get started, Dripty, let’s apply the honey,” Hermione said. “I’ll try to work out the spell while you’re taking out its eyes.” 

“Once we do this, it’s gonna come after us,” Harry said. 

“You should get out and warn the other professors,” Sally-Anne said to Dripty. 

“Miss Atrien is already doing that,” Dripty said. 

“I don’t suppose we can wait for them?” Neville suggested. 

“They can’t get through the door,” Hermione said, turning to Harry. “Get ready. Everyone else, turn away so you don’t see it.” 

“What about Miss Hermione?” Dripty asked. 

“Rose used one of her tricks on me,” Hermione said. “I’ll be fine. Everyone else stand back. I’m going to open the door.” 

When everyone was clear, Dripty and Hermione got the honey ready, then Hermione cracked the door. She jumped when she saw the Basilisk near them. It glanced over at them, then turned back to Professor McGonagall. 

“Children, stay inside!” Professor McGonagall shouted at her. 

Hermione directed Dripty as they moved the honey up to the ceiling. Her job was easy; she just had to get it approximately at the right area, and she’d be fine. Dripty had smaller targets that moved a lot more, and he was blind. 

After the longest 30 seconds of her life, Hermione had everything in position. The Basilisk moved its head just under Dripty’s buckets. 

“Now!” 

Hermione and Dripty slammed their respective containers on the Basilisk. It let out a series of hisses, shook to try to remove the honey, but didn’t care beyond that. 

“It worked!” she exclaimed as she backed away from the door. “Harry, go!” 

Harry took a deep breath, then bolted out of the office door as Hermione began to write in one of her notebooks, propping her books open in front of her. She had to think quickly, so she began to force herself to think harder. 

Hermione concentrated so hard that her head began to hurt. She felt dizzy as it began to burn. Her mind was racing, but everything seemed so simple now. It was as if a weight had just been lifted from her head, and a fog that had permanently set in was clearing. Wait a minute! Hermione knew that feeling! That was _divine enlightenment_! But how? 

The answer occurred to her in seconds: _the hair clip_! 

To everyone else, Hermione just went from “No, I can’t!” to “Just watch me!” She was furiously scribbling in her notebook, writing so fast that she broke her pencil, only to toss it aside for a new one. 

“Hermione?” Ginny asked. 

“Rose must’ve put _divine enlightenment_ on my hair clip for an emergency,” Hermione said, nearly spitting out her words. “I’ve got two minutes to work this out! But I can do it!” She grinned as she realized what she was saying. “I can do it!” 

Outside the office, the Basilisk had pushed Professor McGonagall back across the office door, putting its head just to Harry’s right. Fortunately for Harry, this gave him a good shot at its eyes that now glowed bright yellow. Harry took a deep breath, then lunged at the beast. He didn’t get far, but he made it to its back, just below its head. 

The Basilisk looked back at him, but paid him little mind. It didn’t care about the new threat; it had a much more important one in front of it. 

As the Basilisk looked at Harry, he suddenly felt dizzy, and thought for a moment that he was going to be sick. But the moment it looked away, it all passed. 

“It worked!” he shouted. “The glasses worked! I can see it!” 

There were cheers from inside the office as his friends celebrated the good news. Sally-Anne breathed a sigh of relief, overjoyed that her friend wasn’t dead. 

Harry climbed onto the creature’s head, and it began to toss and turn, trying to throw him off. Harry reached the glowing glob that he knew was its eye and stabbed the sword into it. 

Hissing furiously, the Basilisk violently swung its head. Harry felt the sword slide deeper into the beast’s eye and fluid ooze over his hand. 

As Harry withdrew the sword, the Basilisk slammed its own head into the wall. Fortunately for the Basilisk, its head took little injury. 

Unfortunately for Harry, he cushioned the Basilisk’s head. Dazed, he slid down to the ground, falling off the beast’s head. 

“Harry!” Sally-Anne shouted when she heard the crash. She knew it was a bad idea, but she didn’t care. That was her friend out there! Her own fears were put on the back shelf, and she ran out of the room. The moment she saw Harry on the ground, just as the Basilisk attempted an attack him, she dove between them. 

“ _Dostradi_!” 

The electric dome formed around her and Harry, blocking the snake’s strike. It tried again and again, unphased by the electricity. It wasn’t until Professor McGonagall hurled a volley of spiked balls at it did it finally give up. 

Keeping her eyes down, Sally-Anne whirled around and began to drag Harry back into the office. 

Ginny and Ron ran out behind her and helped her pull Harry back inside. Dripty popped out to grab the sword on their way inside the room. 

Sally-Anne collapsed next to Harry when she got in the room. 

“That thing doesn’t quit,” she panted. 

“Now what?” Ginny asked. “We’ve still got the sword, but that thing’s going to come after us now.” 

Neville looked at the sword, then at the glasses, then at the open door. He looked at all of his friends, and realized that they were all playing a part in this. Everyone except him. Right now, his friends needed to survive, and someone needed to go out there, virtually blind, and attack the Basilisk. And he was expendable. 

_Just take a deep breath, put one foot in front of the other, and do what you’ve got to do._

Without another thought, Neville grabbed the glasses and sword and ran out of the room. 

“Neville!” Sally-Anne cried. 

“What are you doing?!” Ginny shouted. 

“What I’ve got to do!” he replied. Just as Harry had, he jumped onto the beast’s back, but it was ready for him. 

It thrashed around, attempting to throw him off its back, but he held on for dear life, thankful for the honey. 

Sick to his stomach, Neville found his way to its head. He raised the sword, but lost his balance and flew threw the air, away from the office door. 

_This can’t be it_ , Neville thought. _I’ve got to do more. They’re counting on me. I won’t let them down!_

As he left contact with the creature, Neville did the only thing he could think to do. He set his sights on the blurry yellow blob, pulled his arm back, and flung the sword at the Basilisk. 

The sword sailed through the air, heading straight towards the beast. Neville wasn’t sure if it was dumb luck, or if someone else had used magic on it to aim the sword, but he hit his target. 

Neville grinned as he crashed into the headboard of one of the beds, knocking him unconscious. 

The Basilisk let out another volley of hisses and spitting noises, furious about the loss of its other eye. 

“Professor McGonagall! It’s eyes are out! They can’t hurt you anymore!” Hermione shouted. 

Minerva’s eyes snapped open, and she took in the situation. Sinking to the ground about 15 feet away from her on her right was Neville Longbottom, who looked to be in bad shape. The basilisk itself was covered in honey for some reason, but what surprised her more was a familiar sword sticking out of its eye. 

_Albus, I’ve told you before not to let students use that!_ Minerva thought. 

_I believe you said to choose them more carefully,_ Mind Albus said. 

_No, the word I used was_ don’t! Minerva thought to Mind Albus. _If I survive this, I’m taking the rest of the year off._

Just out of the corner of her eye, she saw Hermione Granger sneak out of the office. The second-year began to wave her wand and mutter something. What was she trying to do? 

Minerva found out when a torch just above the girl’s head exploded. 

Unfortunately, not only did the spectacle attract Minerva’s attention, but the Basilisk’s as well. The beast turned on the girl, but Minerva, weakened from her fight, was too slow to stop it. 

Ron watched from the office as the Basilisk prepared to go after his friend. Sally-Anne was fading, Harry and Neville were both unconscious, and they needed Ginny to light up the Basilisk, which just left him. 

What could he do? How could he save Hermione? He had to do _something_! What _could_ he do against the Basilisk?! 

_You’re a stubborn git!_

Then the answer occurred to him: Nothing. He could do _nothing_ to it, but he _could_ do something to Hermione! 

_I really hope this works_ , Ron thought. History said that he would fail. Common sense said that he would fail. The sinking feeling in his stomach said that he would fail. But Ron didn’t care. Hermione was his friend. He wasn’t about to let her down, not after everything they’d done in the past few minutes. Not when they were this close to defeating the Basilisk. Ron wasn’t about to lose any of his pieces when he was this close to victory. 

He raised his wand, and poured all of his concentration and willpower into one spell. 

Hermione looked up in horror as the Basilisk continued to advance on her. It’s tongue flicked in and out of its mouth as it followed her scent. There was nothing she could do. No Rose to save her this time, and Professor McGonagall couldn’t react fast enough. 

It stopped hissing. 

_I’m going to die._

“ _Accio Hermione!_ ” 

Hermione was yanked off her feet and flung towards Madame Pomfrey’s office seconds before the Basilisk struck. She barreled into Ron, and the two of them fell to the ground, landing in an awkward position. 

“Ron!” she gasped, climbing off her friend. “Are you alright?! How’d you do that?!” 

“It worked!” he exclaimed. “I can’t believe that actually worked!” 

“You summoned _me_!” exclaimed Hermione. 

A loud hissing sound came from nearby, and they remembered that they were still fighting a fully grown basilisk. 

“Celebrate later, you two!” Ginny called from the safety of Madame Pomfrey’s Office. She reached out her hand to them. “Come on!” 

“Ms. Granger, wait,” Professor McGonagall said from behind them. “What was that spell?” 

“It’s supposed to increase the concentration of oxygen in an area,” Hermione said as Ron ran inside the office. “It worked, but I didn’t take into account the torches around the room, and accidentally set one of them off. My head’s always fuzzy after _divine enlightenment_ wears off. The incantation is _cefla gwyt latan_ , but you’ll want to banish the honey first.” 

“Easily fixed,” Minerva said, banishing the honey with little thought. She concentrated on the girl’s wand movements, and filled in the gaps in her memory with her own near-infinite knowledge of Transfiguration. “Get ready, and get back.” She waved her wand through the motions, then recited the incantations. “ _Cefla Gwyt Latan!_ ” 

There was a slight shimmer around the creature as the oxygen concentration rose. The moment she finished it, Professor McGonagall turned and covered Neville in ball bearings. 

Ron turned to his sister, who already had her wand ready and pointing through the open door. 

“Ginny, light it!” he shouted. 

“ _Incendio!_ ” Ginny shouted, pointing her wand out of the office while her friends took cover. 

A jet of blue flame shot out of her wand, striking the creature. The moment the flame made contact, an explosion erupted around the beast, knocking Ginny and Professor McGonagall off their feet. 

When the dust and ash cleared, the students and teacher saw the snake writhing in pain, flames covering the beast. It thrashed about, demolishing most of the beds in the Hospital Wing, and destroying entire chunks of the walls. 

With one final, dramatic cry, the Monster of Slytherin collapsed to the ground. The ancient beast that had dwelt within Hogwarts for centuries was dead. 

Minerva did what any experienced adventurer should do and confirmed the kill. After she had, she did what any responsible adult would do. 

“Are you all alright?” she asked the children. 

“I’m okay,” Ginevra groaned. 

“Fine,” Ronald added. 

“Dripty is being okay,” Dripty said. 

“We’re alright,” Hermione said, indicating herself and Sally-Anne. 

“Good. Now,” Minerva took a deep breath, “ _WHAT WERE YOU ALL THINKING?!_ ” 

Professor McGonagall’s face turned red, and her Scottish accent became more noticeable. 

“You could’ve all been killed! I told you to stay inside Poppy’s office!” 

“But we–” Ron began. 

“I should have each one of you _expelled_ for such a blatant disregard for authority or common sense!” 

Ron was horrified. They had won! Why were they being treated like it was a _bad_ thing?! 

“Instead,” Professor McGonagall said, returning to a calmer state, “each of you will receive 50 points, and an award for services to the school.” 

Ron and Ginny stared at the Transfiguration Professor. Hermione sat on the ground before she fell over, her head still spinning. Sally-Anne’s mind was reeling with the knowledge that they had just killed the Basilisk. 

“If you had followed my instructions,” Professor McGonagall said, “then I wouldn’t be standing here.” 

“It won’t happen again, Professor,” Ron said, a grin finding its way to his face. 

“Are you smiling, Mr. Weasley?” Professor McGonagall asked. 

“No, Professor,” Ron said quickly, all traces of happiness vanishing. “Absolutely not. Never.” 

“Fifty points,” Professor McGonagall said. “To _each_ of you.” She turned to Hermione as the other students continued to process that. “Did you come up with that spell on the spot, Ms. Granger?” 

“Sort of,” Hermione said hesitantly. 

“That was the most amazing feat of Arithmancy I’ve ever seen,” Professor McGonagall said. “I will _certainly_ be telling Professor Vector about that.” 

“Never mind me,” Hermione said. “Everyone else was brilliant! Dripty, how’d you think of burning bread dough?” 

“Dripty is burning bread dough all the time!” Dripty exclaimed. “Miss Atrien is always telling him to scrape off the burnt parts, so he was knowing that it wouldn’t come off!” 

“What was the purpose of the glasses?” Professor McGonagall asked. 

“They allowed Harry and Neville to see the Basilisk without dying,” Hermione replied quickly. “It’s eyes, I mean. You see, if you–” 

“Save it for later, Ms. Granger,” Professor McGonagall said. “I’m sure you’ll tire of explaining it soon. First, we need to sound the all-clear.” 

“Dripty will be doing that at once, Professor McGonagall!” 

Before anyone could argue, Dripty vanished. 

“We should get Harry, Neville, and Sally-Anne some help,” Ginny said. 

“I’m alright,” Sally-Anne said. “Worry about them first.” 

“Poppy should be coming around soon,” Professor McGonagall said, looking to the Mediwitch. “What of Miss Lovegood?” 

“Still nothing,” Sally-Anne said. “Her condition hasn’t changed.” 

“There’s one more thing I don’t understand,” Hermione said. 

“What’s that, Ms. Granger?” 

“If the Basilisk is up here, then why isn’t Rose out of the Chamber of Secrets yet?” 


	24. The Man Behind the Curtain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we meet a new face, and Rose has a great day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** The person behind the Harry Potter curtain is J.K. Rowling.

Rose sprinted through the hallways, using her 60 foot movement speed and _greater dimension jumper_ ability to their fullest. The hallways were supposed to be clear, so she didn’t have to worry about any students getting in her way. 

Naturally, this meant that Lockhart would be taking a stroll of stupidity. 

Rose collided with the Defence Against the Dark Arts “Professor”, knocking him to the ground. 

“Peta-Lorrum, watch where you’re going!” he barked as he picked himself up off the ground. 

“What are you doing, Lockhart?” Rose asked. “Never mind, I don’t care.” 

“Me?!” Lockhart exclaimed. “What about you?! Where is everybody?” 

“Taking shelter while we handle the Basilisk,” Rose replied, taking off down the corridor. 

“Why didn’t anyone tell me?!” Lockhart called after her. 

Gilderoy didn’t know what was going on, and it was starting to anger him. First, he found out that someone had planted self-replicating fan mail in with his current batch, which was a complete waste of time. How _dare_ they do that to Gilderoy Lockhart?! 

After sorting out _that_ mess, he left his office to find a completely quiet castle. Once again, the other members of the staff were up to something, and decided not to involve him. He was Gilderoy Lockhart! Slaying monsters was what he did! At least, that’s what he _wanted_ people to think. 

Why weren’t they letting him help? Did they know? At first, Gilderoy thought that Severus knew his secret, but quickly realized that the Potions Master glared at _everyone_ as if they were up to something. 

Finally, Peta-Lorrum was always there to add insult to injury. Whatever she was doing, Gilderoy wasn’t about to let her out of his sight. He took off after the girl, who was surprisingly fast, and could apparently apparate at will across short distances. 

“Where are you going in such a hurry?!” he shouted at her. 

“Chamber of Secrets!” came the reply. “Stop following me!” 

“What?! How do _you_ know where it is?!” 

The girl stopped in the middle of the corridor, causing Gilderoy to fall over her before he’d seen her stop. 

“If you want to help, follow me, don’t ask stupid questions, and stay out of my way.” 

Gilderoy _wanted_ to tell her off, but he realized that the best way to find out what was happening, and more importantly, _take credit for it_ , was to obey the little girl’s orders. That was, at least, for the time being. 

“Fine,” he said. “Where are we going?” 

“Stupid question!” 

Peta-Lorrum didn’t make it easy to follow her. She ran whole way, despite it not being far. Why was she in such a hurry? It wasn’t going anywhere. 

Rose followed _find the path_ to one of the first floor bathrooms. The same bathroom in which Myrtle had been for 50 years. It was where she died. 

“Myrtle!” Rose shouted when she arrived. 

“Rose?” Myrtle asked. “What are you doing here?” Myrtle eyed the male professor entering the bathroom. “And why is there a boy here?” 

“You said you saw a pair of eyes looking at you, and then you died,” Rose said. “That was the Basilisk. Where did you see it?” 

Myrtle squeezed her eyes shut as she concentrated on that day. “There!” She pointed at one of the sinks. “It was in that one right there!” 

Rose ran over to the sink on the far left and tried the tap. 

Nothing. 

“Perfect.” 

“What is going on?!” Gilderoy shouted. 

Peta-Lorrum ignored him and felt around the sink. 

“How have people been missing that this entire time?” she muttered. 

“Missed what?” 

“No time to worry about how to open it; I don’t know how long Luna will last.” 

Peta-Lorrum spread her feet apart and took a deep breath. After inhaling and exhaling a few times, she flung herself at the sink, slamming her left fist into the porcelain. 

The sink and part of the wall gave way under the power of her _fist_ , revealing a tunnel that went down beneath the school. 

Gilderoy shrieked as the girl _punched a hole in the wall_ , then jumped when he heard another crashing sound from somewhere far off. 

“What did you do?!” he exclaimed. 

“That wasn’t me,” Peta-Lorrum replied. “The Basilisk’s in the Hospital Wing.” 

“What–” 

“No time,” she said, turning to the ghost. “Don’t follow me.” 

“Wasn’t planning on it,” she said as Peta-Lorrum slid down the tunnel. 

Gilderoy took one look down the tunnel, then turned to leave. 

“Aren’t you going to go after her?” the ghost asked. “You _are_ Professor Gilderoy Lockhart, after all. I’ve heard the other girls talking about you. You should go help Rose.” 

“Of course I will, but this is part of the plan!” Gilderoy said, hoping to charm this ghost out of making him go down into the Chamber of Secrets. 

“What sort of a plan involves letting a 12-year-old girl go down into the Chamber of Secrets alone?” 

Gilderoy muttered some unkind words under his breath, then shouted, “Hold up! I’m coming too, Ms. Peta-Lorrum!” 

After sliding down a long, dank tunnel, Gilderoy landed on something squishy. Hoping it was only mud, he picked himself up and looked around. It was so dark that he could hardly see his hands in front of his face. 

“Like I said,” came a voice from his left. “Don’t get in my way.” 

He heard squishing of mud moving away from him, indicating that the girl was walking further into the Chamber. After lighting the tip of his wand, Gilderoy began to follow her. 

“You coming?” asked the girl. 

“I’m right behind you,” the Defence Professor said. 

“Good,” came the reply. “Keep up.” 

She began to run, forcing Gilderoy to sprint to keep up with her or risk getting lost in the Chamber of Secrets. 

“What’s so important that you’re in such a hurry?” the Defence Professor called. “Why is the Basilisk in the Hospital Wing?” 

“It’s going after my friends,” she called back. “They’re all in the Hospital Wing, so I’ve got to move quickly so I can get back there and kill it.” 

“Why not do that now?” 

“If I do, then I don’t know what will happen to Luna. Something’s down here that’s draining the life out of her. If I go back up now, I risk losing her. Professor McGonagall can handle the Basilisk. Besides, I trust my friends. Together, they’ll find a way, but _I’m_ the only one who can save Luna.” 

Rose hadn’t received any messages from Hermione, which had concerned her. To verify the bushy-haired girl’s well-being, she checked on her _status_ and found her to be still conscious. Knowing that her friend was still alive brought Rose the comfort she needed to not worry about her. 

After less than a minute, the pair reached a large chamber covered in stone tiles. The walls were lined with statues of snakes, and at the far end of it was a statue of Salazar Slytherin himself. 

In each snake statue sat a green torch, giving the chamber an eerie green glow. 

“Well, hello there,” an unfamiliar voice said. “And who might you be?” 

In the middle of the chamber was a boy in Slytherin garb. His hair was perfectly combed, there wasn’t a blemish on his face, his robes fell perfectly on his form, and everything about him said “I’m nice. You can trust me.” 

Clearly, this boy was a natural-born liar. 

“Rose. Rose Peta-Lorrum.” Rose curtsied, mostly out of instinct. “And you are?” 

“Tom Marvolo Riddle.” 

Rose groaned. “Really?! That’s it?! After all of this? With all the cryptic warnings and threats, it’s just _you_?! You’re behind this?! That has _got_ to be the biggest letdown ever!” 

“Who’s Tom Riddle?” Lockhart asked. 

Tom frowned. “Why is that, Rose?” 

“You’re Voldemort,” Rose said, noticing that Lockhart flinched at the name. “Of course you’ve got something to do with it, but come on! _Everything?!_ I was hoping for so much more!” Rose took a breath to calm herself down. “Fine. Whatever. What’d you do to Luna?” 

Tom smirked, and Rose immediately wanted to punch him. “Little Moon? Oh, I’m going to kill her.” 

Rose smirked. “No, you’re not.” 

“Don’t you want to hear–” 

“Your plan? Not really,” Rose replied. “You’re absorbing her soul or something like that. I kill you, the link is broken, and Luna’s free. Simple.” 

“It was simple,” Tom said. “She was so desperate to hear from her mum, she was willing to believe me, just like that. Poor little Luna. She’s told me all about you, Rose. About your family, and your friends. About Shadow. How you miss her.” 

“I do,” Rose said. “And I’ll tell you right now, you’re not going to get under my skin. Better people than you have tried. This isn’t my first adventure, so don’t treat me like I’m first level. It’s–” 

“Annoying?” 

“ _Condescending_.” 

“Ooh, such a big word for a little girl,” Tom said as condescendingly as he could. 

“Thank you!” Rose replied cheerfully. “I _am_ little, aren’t I?” 

Rose walked straight up to Tom and looked up at him. At just under four and a half feet, Rose fell just short of reaching his chin. 

Gilderoy silently watched the two stare each other down, being thankful that it wasn’t just he that was annoyed by the girl. 

“What are _you_ going to do, Rose?” Tom asked. “Luna’s told me all about you. How tough you are; how nothing frightens you. But what can _you_ do against _me_?” 

Rose smirked. “I’ll save you the trouble of trying to intimidate me, Tommy. There’s one being in all of creation that scares me, and you’re not it.” 

Through the mist of confusion, Gilderoy noted two things about that sentence: Peta-Lorrum said “being”, not “person”, and “it” instead of “him”, “her”, or even “they”. Up until that moment, Gilderoy thought _nothing_ bothered that child. 

“But you do make a good point.” 

The Artificer drew back her arm, and punched Tom right in his perfect nose. There was a sickening crunch as her fist made contact with skin and cartilage. 

“What?!” shouted Tom. “How did you hit me?! I should be untouchable!” 

“Don’t you just _hate it_ when a plan goes wrong?” Rose said, grinning. She punched Tom in the stomach, then spun around, bringing her foot up to catch the Slytherin in the side of the head, knocking him down. 

The boy slowly climbed to his feet, laughing. “It doesn’t matter, _Freak_. In a few minutes, Luna will be dead. And I’ll live once again. You can’t save her.” 

“Sure I can,” Rose replied. “Watch me.” 

Rose knelt down next to the sneering boy, and, as casually as a child would take a book from a shelf, reached out her hands and snapped the boy’s neck. 

Gilderoy stared in disbelief as the girl stood up. 

“See?” the crimson-haired lunatic said. “Nothing–” 

“Nice try.” 

Rose looked down to see Tom twisting his head back into place. 

“I’m not so easily killed.” 

Now, _I’ve got a problem_ , thought Rose. How was she supposed to kill him? What about _disintegrate_? No, Rose had no guarantee he wouldn’t reform. The same went for any other death effect. Rose had no idea how he worked, but her surrogate sister was running out of time. 

<Rose, I believe I know how to save Luna,> Reflectesalon told Rose. 

<How?>

<He mentioned pretending to be Luna’s mother. Luna said that her book was her mother.>

<Of course! The book!> Rose looked around the chamber. <Thanks, Ref!>

“What are you looking for?” Tom asked, sneering at the girl. 

“Lockhart!” Rose shouted, turning to the Defence Professor. “Make yourself useful and find a black book!” 

Tom’s face twitched ever so slightly. Rose probably wouldn’t have noticed it if she hadn’t rolled well on her Perception check. 

Gilderoy didn’t budge from his spot. There was _no way_ he was taking orders from a girl who would so casually kill a person. 

When Rose realized that Lockhart wasn’t going to help, she rolled her eyes, then began the search herself. 

_Eight charges_ , Rose thought. _Thirty minutes in which to use them._

Rose burned the first charge from _Serendipity_. 

“ _Spontaneous search!_ ” 

_Spontaneous search_ was a nice little first-level spell that allowed Rose to instantly search 30 feet around her as if she had inspected everything with a magnifying glass. Her head flooded with information about the type of stones around her, the content of the mud, and a black book tucked away underneath a statue. 

Rose _dimension jumped_ to the book as Smithy moved it into her hand. 

“How is this book important?” Rose asked Tom. 

“As if I would tell you!” Tom spat. 

Rose ran through everything she knew about Tom, her mind fueled by adrenaline and desperation to save her friend. He didn’t think that he could be hit, and was angry that Rose had found the book. He had pretended to be Luna’s mum, which the book had done. 

Conclusion: Tom was the book. Destroy the book; destroy Tom. 

<Destroy the book, and there is no evidence to prove Luna is innocent,> Reflectesalon told her. 

<Alright, so I’ll put a hole in it,> Rose replied, throwing the book on the floor. She began to run through what she knew about damaging objects. 

_Cold does quarter, fire and electricity do half, acid and sonic do full._

She pointed at the book with her left index finger, and burned another charge from _Serendipity_. 

“ _Sonic ray!_ ” 

A wonderful ability of hers was called _metamagic spell trigger_ , which allowed her to apply any of her metamagic feats to a spell cast from a wand or staff, such as _Serendipity_. All it cost her was an additional charge for every level by which the feat modified the spell; in this case, none. Therefore, Rose could use it to modify _wish_ to substitute energy damage for sonic, and replicate the spell _polar ray_ , but with sonic instead of cold. 

Out from her finger shot a ray of sonic energy, creating a deafening BANG! It streaked through the air and struck the book head on, ripping a hole clean through the cover. Page after page gave way to the sonic powered blast. 

“WHAT?!” screamed Tom. “That’s impossible!” 

“If I had a gold piece for every time I’ve heard someone scream that before they died…” Rose said, smirking. 

A large hole appeared in Tom, mirroring the one in his book. Ink began to run out of the book, which bore a close resemblance to blood. 

Tom’s body flickered in and out as he faded into nothingness. 

“Nooooo!” he cried as he flickered out of existence. 

* * *

Back in the Hospital Wing, Professor McGonagall and the Gryffindors were startled by sudden gasping coming from Luna’s bed. Turning around, they all saw that the source of the noise was Luna herself. 

The Ravenclaw gasped for air, then slowly calmed down as life returned to her body. Her cheeks took on their normal color, which wasn’t much better than she had been a moment ago. 

“Luna!” Ginny exclaimed. “Are you alright?” 

“Good morning,” Luna said. “I think. Why wouldn’t I be alright?” 

“You were out for a while,” Hermione said. “We thought you were…” 

“But you’re fine now,” Ron said. “Right?” 

“I think so,” Luna replied. 

Hermione held onto the _condition conch_ and sent a message to Rose. 

<Rose, the Basilisk is dead and Luna’s safe. Eom.>

It had taken Hermione awhile to adjust to the “eom” bit that Rose insisted she use, but with Rose’s mostly unwelcome help, Hermione formed the habit of adding it. 

Unfortunately, there was still no response from the crimson-haired girl. 

“I’m still not getting anything from Rose,” Hermione said. “I’m really starting to worry about her.” 

“She must be alright,” Ron said. “Luna’s back!” 

“I guess.” 

“Ms. Granger, I can’t say that I’ve always liked Ms. Peta-Lorrum, but if there’s one thing that I _can_ say about her, it’s that she is capable of taking care of herself,” Professor McGonagall reassured her. 

“Alright,” Hermione said. 

* * *

Rose grinned as she watched the Slytherin disappear. 

“Classic.” 

“Well done, my dear,” Lockhart said, drawing his wand. “Excellent work, I should say.” 

“But unfortunately, I am interfering with your plans, so you’ll have to kill me,” Rose said, still smiling. 

“Oh no, nothing like that,” Lockhart said, smirking. “But I think this will make an excellent addition to my books. Perhaps ‘Outing the Heir’? Maybe not.” 

“Let’s see if I’ve got this,” Rose said. “You’re incompetent, but somehow managed to fool everyone into believing you’re amazing. Your books are too in depth to be made up, so you’ve got to be drawing on some sort of real-world experience, but it isn’t your own. Whoever it is, they don’t come forward, nor are you worried about it. You just said you didn’t want to kill me, and you look too squeamish to kill people, so I’m gonna guess you’re silencing them some other way.” 

“ _Incarcero_!” 

_I sound like my brother,_ Rose thought as a rope sprang out of Lockhart’s wand and wrapped itself around her. 

“Say goodbye to your memory, little girl,” Lockhart said. 

“Did you have to tell me?” Rose whined. “I was gonna–” 

“ _Obliviate!_ ” 

There was a bright flash, but otherwise, nothing happened. 

“I don’t understand,” Rose said, tilting her head. 

“I bet you don’t,” Lockhart said, smirking. “You see, you were taken hostage by–” 

“No, I mean, what’s that supposed to do?” Rose asked. “Wipe my memory? Cos it didn’t work.” 

Lockhart blinked. “What?” 

“ _Mind blank_ ,” Rose replied, grinning. She slid out of the ropes as if she were covered in butter. “My mind cannot be read or altered.” 

Lockhart shook with fury, looking for all the worlds like he was going to explode. 

“You–” 

Rose didn’t let him finish. She appeared right in front of him and cracked him in the head. With a bloody bruise on his forehead, the former Defence Professor crumpled to the floor. 

“That was fun,” Rose said, admiring her work. “I should really be getting back, though. There’s no telling what could be happening upstairs.” She looked around the Chamber of Secrets. 

“I wonder what else is in here?” 

“ _That, Little Rosie, is the right question,_ ” a familiar voice said. It came from all around her, echoing throughout the Chamber of Secrets. 

“Don’t call me ‘Little Rosie’,” Rose snapped. “Only my parents call me that. And my sister, sometimes. And Sk’lar, once or twice.” She tilted her head. “I think Shadow might have once.” 

“ _I’ve been waiting quite some time for you to arrive, Little Rosie. I’m pleased to see you finally found your way._ ” 

“It wasn’t that hard once I tried,” Rose replied, still looking around for the source of the voice. “While we’re on the subject, you should consider moving Myrtle. It’s kind of a giveaway that your super secret lair is there.” Rose tilted her head the other direction. “Actually, the hole I made in the wall is doing that now, I guess.” 

“ _And now, we can finally have our talk._ ” 

“Hmm,” Rose said. “No, I don’t think so. I’m just gonna leave.” 

“ _If you do, how will you ever restore poor little Luna?_ ” the voice asked. 

“I already did by destroying the book,” Rose replied. 

“ _Are you sure?_ ” 

Rose hesitated. She _wasn’t_ sure. She was just _assuming_ that the book was what was keeping Luna’s soul hostage. What if it was the owner of the voice? 

“No, but I can find out,” Rose said, turning to collect Lockhart’s body. 

“ _If you leave here, I will kill her._ ” 

Rose stopped dead. 

“What do you want?!” 

“ _Only to talk._ ” 

“What about my friends?!” 

“ _If you stay, they might die; if you leave, they_ will _die._ ” 

Rose clenched her fists and let out a low growl. 

“I’m getting tired of people threatening my friends.” 

“ _Then don’t have any._ ” 

Rose growled again, something she’d picked up from Alice, then asked, “What do I call you?” 

“ _I have no need for a name._ ” 

“If we’re gonna make this thing work, you’ve gotta be willing to compromise,” Rose teased. 

<Rose, something’s moving,> Reflectesalon informed her. 

Rose glanced around and saw something shifting around in the shadows. 

“ _Very well. Call me Slytherin, if you must._ ” 

“No, I’ll get confused,” Rose said, scrunching her face as she thought. “What was his first name? Sal? Sally!” Her face lit up. “I’ll call you Sally!” 

Sally paused, and Rose could almost hear Carolina sighing. 

“ _If you insist,_ ” Sally said. “ _Now, Little Rosie, I–_ ” 

“Stop calling me Little Rosie!” 

“ _If we’re gonna make this thing work, you’ve gotta be willing to compromise,_ ” Sally mimicked. 

Rose narrowed her eyes, then glanced at the statues on the walls. 

Wisps of smoke swirled around the chamber and bodies began to form out of the smoke. There were no legs, and each wore a faded, dark green cloak with the hood pulled up, covering their faces, if they had any. 

“ _Those, Little Rosie, are called Spectres._ ” 

“Good name,” Rose said. “Spelled with a ‘K’?” 

“ _Hmm. It is now._ ” 

“ _Kethé_! Can I kill one?” 

“ _You’re welcome to try. It’s been a while since they’ve eaten anyone other than the odd defence professor._ ” 

“That’s what keeps happening to them!” Rose exclaimed, drawing _Crimson Thorn_. 

“ _That, or the War, or sickness, or they go against Dumbledore._ ” 

“ _Professor_ Dumbledore!” Rose corrected as the Spektres approached her. 

Rose turned to the Spektre beside her, swinging _Crimson Thorn_ in a wide arc in front of her. The double-bladed sword lit up as both ends ignited, burning the Spektre before Rose. The creature evaporated, and the others fell back. 

“Is that it?” she asked. 

One of the Spektres raised its hand, and a red bolt lanced out, narrowly missing Rose. 

“That’s interesting,” Rose said. “Can they cast spells?” 

“ _It took me decades to manufacture them with that capability,_ ” Sally said. “ _Although far more important is their ability to assimilate other creatures._ ” 

Rose appeared next to a cluster of Spektres, and swung _Crimson Thorn_ again. After a few strikes, the group of Spektres was gone. She turned to another group, pulled her arm back, and flung _Crimson Thorn_ at the group. The weapon tumbled end over end towards the creatures, then passed right through them. 

“Right,” Rose said as the weapon began its return flight. _I’m the one with_ ghost touch _now, not him._

She wasn’t sure why, but something about them seemed familiar. There wasn’t much on De’rok that could extract living souls from people, so what was it about them that seemed familiar? 

The Spektres realized that they were fighting a losing battle, and began to fall back towards the edges of the chamber. 

“Anything else?” Rose asked. 

As the Spektres retreated, something dropped from the ceiling. Upon further inspection, Rose saw that it was a drop of blood. Looking up, she saw a mass of blood on the ceiling, although she saw no source of the blood. 

“Is that a bloodfire ooze?” she asked. 

“ _That is Cruentius,_ ” Sally said. “ _It has been a long time since it has gotten to stretch its legs._ ” 

The blob dropped to the floor, although it continued to lack a distinct shape. 

Before the creature could make a move against her, Rose cut into it with _Crimson Thorn_ , only to find that he passed straight through it. It wasn’t incorporeal; it was a _swarm_. 

“ _Gromphun_ swarms!” she exclaimed, _blinking_ through an attack from the creature. 

Swarms were a pain for someone like Rose that relied on dealing massive amounts of damage with weaponry. Swarms were _immune_ to typical combat damage, only vulnerable to area spells. Technically, she would be dealing one damage every time she hit it with _Crimson Thorn_ , but that was going to go too slow. 

“ _Not so easy to take on this one, is it?_ ” Sally asked, his voice dripping with condescension. 

“Oh, I’ll find a way,” Rose said, raising her hand to the creature. 

From Rose’s outstretched hand shot a jet of flame, covering the area in fire. Rose felt the heat of her attack on her face, but was more interested in the discomfort it was apparently causing her new opponent. 

“Good,” she muttered. _Six charges remaining. Let’s do this, everyone._

Folding up _Crimson Thorn_ , Rose tumbled past a sword of blood. She vaulted off the ground as another came at her, spinning around in mid-flight to face her opponent. 

Rose raised her arm and flung it down, activating another ability of the _Ring of Life’s Flame_. 

“ _Flame strike!_ ” she shouted. 

A shining pillar of flame erupted from the ceiling. It engulfed Cruentius, burning the creature alive. The ooze writhed as it was covered in holy fire, but still it stood against her. 

“Finally,” Rose said, grinning. “A _challenge_!” 

Cruentius lashed out again, tentacles of blood whipping around Rose as she flew through the air. She tumbled around them, closing the distance between her and the beast. 

Rose spun around, dancing around the attacks, then got to her feet and flung her arms out. 

“ _Greater Fireburst!_ ” 

The surrounding air was filled with flames as Cruentius was once again hit with an area spell. After the fire cleared, the creature still towered over her. 

The amorphous blob was at least 30 feet high if it stretched out enough, although it didn’t remain in any one shape for more than a few seconds. Hundreds of small stubs branched off it, ready to form into full-sized tentacles and attack her. 

Rose counted nearly 150 points of damage dealt to it so far, but it wasn’t going to be enough. Most of her fighting style was based around using _Crimson Thorn_ , but he was nearly useless against a swarm, or whatever Cruentius was. 

Rose crossed her legs, then spun around to dodge another attack from Cruentius. She lept through the air to bypass another tentacle, then saw something she wasn’t expecting. 

Several small spiked balls formed around Cruentius. It whipped around, hurling the balls in all directions. As the first few touched the surrounding walls, they exploded on impact. 

“That’s _kethé_!,” Rose said as she spotted two heading her way. She flipped through the air, sliding between the two of them as they flew past her. 

Rose heard the balls explode as they hit the wall behind her, destroying more of the snake statues that lined the Chamber of Secrets. 

Rose curtsied as she landed, then threw another _flame strike_ at Cruentius, burning the last one she had for the week. She dove aside to dodge the attacking amorphous blob, then an idea struck her. 

Rose pulled the picnic basket charm off her bracelet, and from inside of it, she pulled out a long, black bandoleer. She fastened it around her, thankful that her body never changed. 

<How are adult Human women supposed to wear bandoleers?> she asked Reflectesalon. 

<I do not possess enough information to speak on this subject,> came the neutral reply. 

Attached to the bandoleer were ten small, dark maroon orbs. Each one was modeled after a fat rose bud, as Rose herself had dubbed them “blooms”. 

At its heart, a _bloom_ was an explosive device. It had taken Rose months to perfect them, but she had devised a way to get the _delayed blast fireball_ spell contained within each one to trip on impact. They were considered light weapons, which meant that Rose could throw two of them at the same time and take no penalties, thanks to the feats provided by Reflectesalon. 

Having used her standard action for the round, Rose twirled around and dodged another tentacle, then ducked as Cruentius itself lunged at her. 

Rose _blinked_ through the beast as it attempted to engulf her, then pulled two _blooms_ from her bandoleer. Finally, Rose used _greater dimension jumper_ to put some distance between her and Cruentius. 

“I hope you’re hungry!” she shouted as she threw them both at the beast. 

They collided with the beast and exploded, sending blood flying everywhere. Rose landed nimbly on her feet as she was sprayed with blood. 

Seeing no immediate response from the blob, she pulled two more _blooms_ from her bandoleer. Rose didn’t know what it was, but it was taking every hit she sent at it. She didn’t know for certain that it was taking damage from her attacks, but she was assuming. 

Something behind her tripped her _blindsight_ , and she saw red ooze closing in on all sides. Cruentius encased the girl, leaving no way for her to escape. 

“You do know I don’t need to breathe, right?” Rose called from inside the creature of blood. 

“ _So I’ve heard,_ ” Sally replied, “ _but that doesn’t mean Cruentius can’t crush you._ ” 

From within the prison of blood, Rose smirked. 

“It can try,” Rose said, “but do you know what my sister always says trying is?” 

“ _What?_ ” 

“Failing with honor.” 

With that, Rose set off the _blooms_ in her hands. 

Another explosion ripped apart Cruentius, sending its pieces scattering all over the chamber. In the middle of the blast site stood Rose, a maniacal grin plastered all over her face. 

“What’s the matter?!” she shouted, taunting the beast. “Is that it?!” 

She looked around, but Cruentius wasn’t moving. 

“Well,” Rose said, happy with her work. “I guess that takes care of–” 

A warning from _foresight_ cut her off, but before she could react to it, something ripped through her chest. Another hole was punctured in either arm, and barbs formed on the end of the blades, stopping her from removing them. 

More holes were opened up in her legs and arms, holding her in place. As Cruentius reformed in front of her, a long blade formed from it, and Cruentius plunged the sword into her forehead. 

“You _d’t’dok_ ,” Rose said as she felt the blood draining from her body. “Have you got any idea… how long… it’s going to take… to repair this dress?” 

Rose’s vision began to blur, and she realized that Cruentius was depleting her hit points. 

As it finished draining her, the blades all receded, and Rose fell to the floor, dead. 

“ _That was disappointing._ ” 


	25. The Dead Stay Silent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the fight is over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** I shall never be silent about J.K. Rowling owning Harry Potter.

Rose opened her eyes to find a bright blue sky overhead. 

“What happened?” Rose asked, sitting up. 

She was in a forest clearing, although trees hung over the sides. The ground dipped down into a bowl, and there were rocks arranged in a pattern around her. 

“Hi, Rose,” a familiar voice said. 

Rose turned to face Carolina. Her dark orange hair was pulled into a bun, leaving her bright green eyes to shine at Rose. 

“Carrie, what are you doing here?” Rose asked. “Where am I? What happened?” 

“Same old Rose,” Carolina said, smiling. “You just have to know everything, just like your brother.” 

It frustrated Rose to be treated like a child by her friends, but she couldn’t stay mad at Carolina. 

“You’re in Falling Grove,” Carolina said. “The sanctuary at the Sunstar Monastery.” 

“What am I doing here?” Rose asked, rubbing her head. 

“Do you remember what happened?” 

Rose frowned as she concentrated on the past few hours. 

“I was fighting a bloodfire ooze swarm in the Chamber of Secrets, then… then I died. It killed me.” 

She looked to Carolina for confirmation, or better yet, some indication that it was all just a dream. 

“You’re dead, Rose,” Carolina said. “This is just a hallucination.” 

Rose looked around the clearing again. 

“Huh. This didn’t happen last time.” 

Carolina smiled, and the whole world got a little better. 

“You weren’t a Chosen of EL last time,” she said. 

“So it is him,” Rose said. 

“He’s probably putting this vision into your head.” 

“Why?” 

“Probably to make some point,” Carolina said. “He does that.” 

Rose looked up to the sky, then back at Carolina. It was so peaceful and bright compared to the Chamber of Secrets. 

“What’s wrong?” Carolina asked. 

“I already saved Moon,” Rose said. “If I go back, I’ll just put them in more danger. Maybe I should just stay here.” 

“You don’t mean that.” 

“I do! I’ve always loved Falling Grove. The countryside’s so beautiful. It’s calm and peaceful, away from the big cities like Sentrum.” 

“You won’t stay here,” Carolina said. “It’ll all go black.” 

“I guess I’d never see Shadow again,” Rose said. 

“No one would ever know what happened to you. You’d just vanish. Hermione couldn’t tell Sk’lar.” 

Rose tilted her head. 

“You never had a choice, did you?” 

“ _You_ do.” 

“That’s because unlike _you_ , _I’m_ prepared!” 

Rose smirked, but stopped when she saw how downcast Carolina was. 

“I’m sorry,” Rose said. 

“ _I’m_ the one that’s sorry,” Carolina said. “You know I didn’t mean to, right?” 

“I forgave you a long time ago, Carrie,” Rose said. “You know I can’t stay mad at you! You’re too pretty!” 

Carolina gave the half smile she always gave when she was trying to convince people everything was alright. 

“Contingent _revivify_!” Rose declared when Carolina didn’t ask what she had. “I come back to life the instant I die!” She grinned. “That rhymed!” 

“You _are_ prepared.” 

“I try to be,” Rose said. “It only works once, though, and I’m restored to -1 hit points. So long as I can act fast, I’ll be fine.” 

Carolina smiled warmly, reminding Rose just how much she missed that smile. 

“That’s our girl.” 

Carolina hugged Rose. 

“Go save the day again,” she said. “Make us proud.” 

Rose smiled and returned the hug. 

“I will.” 

* * *

Rose gasped for breath as life and colour returned to her body. One by one, her spells reactivated. The last time that Rose died, she learned that spells only fade if the caster’s soul leaves their body. _Revivify_ stopped a soul from leaving its body, immediately restoring life to the target, and thus prevented her persisted spells from fading. 

<I’m alright, Ref,> she told him when she heard his voice in her head. <I’m alright, but next time I hallucinate, I want to see my parents.>

“ _Fascinating,_ ” Sally said. “ _I knew you could restore life to the deceased, but I didn’t realize that you could even restore_ your own _life._ ” 

“Yup!” Rose said, picking herself up off the ground. “That’s not all I can do.” 

_So long as I can act fast, I’ll be fine._

Rose hadn’t always been one for thinking anything through. She found it boring, preferring to act rather than discuss what to do. That had changed when she met Shadow. The Halfling was clever, had contingencies for her contingencies, and was always at least one step ahead of everyone else. 

Rose was envious of the trait, and in order to impress Shadow, she’d begun to take the time to think her plans through to the end. Unfortunately for her, this didn’t last long, as she often got bored and wandered off to do something else. 

Rose’s plan for when she died was one of the plans she _had_ thought through to the end. She knew exactly how to restore her health and prevent any further damage. In this case, she knew exactly how to stop Cruentius from getting back up. 

“ _But how many times will that work?_ ” Sally asked. “ _Will it keep you alive forever?_ ” 

“Long enough to stop you,” Rose replied. 

With a standard action, Rose activated her belt and restored her health back above dying. Then, she activated her belt _again_ to give herself an additional standard action for the round. Finally, she used her new action to activate _Serendipity_. 

“ _Ghostform_.” 

_Ghostform_ was an eighth-level spell that did exactly what it sounded like: It turned the caster into a ghost. That meant that no matter how hard Sally tried, his pet couldn’t touch her. 

Rose didn’t typically use _ghostform_ because unlike her uncle and brother, she made a habit of grappling, pinning, and tripping her opponents. While it made her virtually indestructible in her new world, _Ghostform_ didn’t allow her to interact with other people, so she saved it for emergencies. 

Cruentius solidified one of its tentacles into a blade of blood, then struck at Rose with the scythe-like extension of itself. Unlike the previous assault on Rose, its blade phased straight through her. 

“What’s the matter?” Rose asked condescendingly. “Can’t touch incorporeal?” 

Cruentius spun around, condensing more of its tentacles into deadly scythes, but each one passed through its prey, leaving her unscathed. 

_Three charges_ , Rose thought as she ignored the monster attempting to tear her to shreds. _Four shots, each one deals 6d6 damage. That’s 72d6 of damage._

Rose grabbed her picnic basket again, as Cruentius was helpless to stop her. From the picnic basket, Rose drew a long, black metal tube. At over three feet long, it approached Rose in length. 

“This time, when I knock you down,” Rose declared. “I’m gonna make sure you don’t get back up!” 

The _Dark Meteor_ was another one of Rose’s masterpieces, even though she rarely had an occasion to use him. This, however, was a perfect time put him to good use. At first glance, he was a simple, three-charges-per-day _meteor swarm_ item. Under the surface, Rose had created an additional function. Once per month, Rose could burn all three charges for the next month to fire all three uses of _meteor swarm_ simultaneously. It had taken Rose months to perfect it, even though her uncle repeatedly told her it wouldn’t be worth it. Her reward had been seeing 12 meteors focus on a single target, which to her, was worth it. 

“ _Nyr doch!_ ” she screamed as the weapon glowed red. 

One by one, twelve meteors fired out of the tube in quick succession, spreading out around Rose before flying straight at her opponent. Each two-foot diameter ball left a trail of sparks in its wake as it streaked towards the blob of blood. 

The first meteor made contact with the stone floor, covering both Rose and Cruentius in the resulting explosion. Stray blood flew off Cruentius as the next meteor struck the ceiling above it, ripping chunks of stone from their resting places. 

Each explosion whipped Rose’s cloak was whipped around, but Rose herself stood her ground, still holding the _Dark Meteor_ as she watched each meteor strike its intended target. Explosion after explosion rocked the entire chamber, and Rose briefly wondered if anyone could feel or hear them upstairs. More importantly, she wondered if mixed in with the sounds of the explosions were sounds of Cruentius crying out in pain. She hadn’t heard the creature make much sound until now, other than the squishy sounds of blood moving about, but there was a high-pitched sound that didn’t quite sound like a direct result of an explosion. In fact, it sounded more like a scream of agony. 

After six adrenaline-filled seconds, the explosions subsided, and the dust began to settle. As debris cleared from her line of sight, Rose saw that Cruentius still stood, but it was melting into the ground. Slowly the creature disappeared into the crevices of the Chamber of Secrets, but still she held her weapon ready to attack it if this was yet another trick. 

“ _Very good,_ ” Sally said after another minute had passed. “ _I’m impressed, Little Rosie. It seems that I have underestimated you._ ” 

“Great,” Rose snapped. “Can I go now?” 

“ _You may, but do remember, Little Rosie,_ ” Sally said as his guest began to leave, “ _I stay my hand because I prefer that people not know that I’m here. If people knew about me, then I would no longer have any reason to remain hidden._ ” 

Rose turned around, glaring at the statue of Salazar Slytherin. That question had crossed her mind more than once in the past few minutes as to how he had survived down here for so long. People in this world weren’t that perceptive, otherwise they would’ve noticed the snake on the tap by now. If Sally just kept to himself, no one would notice him. With the curse on the Defence Against the Dark Arts professorship, no one was going to question why one of the professors disappeared now and then. 

What about Cruentius? What was it? Some sort of homunculus? Each homunculus _did_ require a drop of Rose’s blood to make, so maybe it was simply one that needed much more blood. It wasn’t like a water elemental that could be affected by _Crimson Thorn_ , but more like a water elementite swarm, which was like a big water elemental made up of smaller water elementals. 

Whatever it was, Rose was going to need to consult an expert if she was going to be ready for it the next time. If there was anyone that would know how to beat it, it would be her uncle. Sk’lar was clever, but he had few damaging spells in his spellbook, and the ones he did have only dealt damage incidentally, such as _freezing fog_. Whenever the Exalted went up against a swarm, Shadow was the one who typically defeated it with a _necklace of fireballs_ or the like. 

“ _Do you understand, Little Rosie?_ ” 

“What you’re saying,” Rose said, snapping out of her thoughts, “is that if I tell people about you, you’ll come after them.” 

“ _It’s your choice. Make sure it’s a wise one._ ” 

Rose picked up the diary as she walked off. “I’ll do that.” 

As she approached Lockhart, Rose’s dress stitched itself back together, and the blood slid off her dress. 

Rose glanced down at her now clean clothing, then turned back to the statue of Salazar Slytherin. 

“Don’t think this means I’m not still mad at you for killing me,” Rose said. 

Hearing no reply, she turned around and picked up Lockhart. Throwing the Defence Professor’s unconscious body over her shoulder, she took one last look around the Chamber of Secrets before expending another charge to leave the forsaken place. 

“ _I think that went well,_ ” Sally said as he watched the girl vanish. 

* * *

Poppy was busy tending to her patients when a flurry of petals appeared in the Hospital Wing. Minerva had easily repaired the beds the Basilisk smashed, and Poppy had seen that Potter, Longbottom, and Lovegood all received beds. 

After the Ravenclaw had woken up, she quickly fell back asleep. She was tired, and Poppy didn’t blame her. With everything that had happened that day, Poppy was ready to collapse. 

Longbottom had been the worst off of all of them, suffering a concussion and several broken bones from when the Basilisk hurled him into the wall. Nothing Poppy couldn’t fix, of course. 

Potter had a few cracked ribs, but nothing severe. It had only taken the Mediwitch a few moments to fix him, but he was still unconscious. 

Not a minute after she had finished with her last patient, Rose Peta-Lorrum appeared out of the petals. Over her shoulder was the unconscious body of Gilderoy Lockhart. At least, Minerva was _hoping_ he was unconscious. There was a bruise on his forehead, and some blood trickled out of it. 

In the girl’s other hand was a book with a large hole in it. It appeared as though the hole had been ripped through the book, rather than burned or stabbed as she would have expected. It was almost as if a large pillar of stone had been thrust into it at a high velocity. Knowing Peta-Lorrum, it wouldn’t have surprised Minerva in the slightest if that were the case. 

“Sorry I took so long,” the girl said, tossing Lockhart’s body onto the hard stone floor rather than one of the soft beds. “ _This one_ delayed me.” 

As the Defence Professor landed, Minerva caught sight of the bandoleer around the girl’s torso. The Transfiguration Professor quickly counted six dark red orbs attached to it. 

As Poppy moved the man to a bed, Minerva held up her hand to silence the other students. 

“Ms. Peta-Lorrum, please explain _exactly_ what happened in the Chamber of Secrets.” 

“On my way down there, I ran into Lockhart, who had worked out that Fred and George charmed his fan mail to replicate itself,” Rose began, grinning at the thought of Lockhart realizing what had happened. “He insisted on following me, and I thought I might as well let him. He was a little hesitant to follow me into the toilet, though.” 

“Since when do _you_ need to use the toilet?” Hermione asked. 

“I don’t,” Rose replied, “but there’s a reason that Myrtle stays in the same bathroom in which the Basilisk killed her.” 

“Ms. Peta-Lorrum, do not talk in riddles,” Minerva said firmly. 

“The entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is in Myrtle’s bathroom,” Peta-Lorrum said. “You’ll see where it is. I didn’t want to waste time trying to figure out how to open it, so I broke it down.” 

“Alright,” Minerva said, still remaining calm. She knew that if she exploded at the girl, she would become more difficult to handle, so Minerva decided that a placid manner was the correct way to handle this. “Next question: Why is Lockhart unconscious?” 

“After sorting out the entire mess with the Heir of Slytherin, Lockhart decided he was going to take all the credit for the defeat, despite not having done _anything_. The coward stayed back and let me do all the dirty work. Afterward, he tied me up, then tried to wipe my memory. Unfortunately for him, _mind blank_ stopped him, and I knocked him unconscious.” 

Minerva looked down at the unconscious professor, then back to the conscious student. 

“Do you know why he chose that particular tactic?” Minerva asked, her calm voice concealing her inner fury. For what might have been the first time that day, the target of her anger _wasn’t_ Peta-Lorrum. What was that man _thinking_?! Minerva didn’t care how unprofessional he was, under _no_ circumstances should a teacher attempt to wipe the memory of a _student_! Even if said student _was_ Rose Peta-Lorrum! Not to mention that memory charms were _illegal_ to use without ministry consent! 

“From what I’ve worked out, Locky here has been stealing the stories of other adventurers and claiming them to be his own. He finds them, interviews them, then once he’s got all he needs, he wipes their memories.” 

“That’s horrible!” Granger shouted, clapping her hands over her mouth the second she did. “Sorry, Professor,” she mumbled through her hands. 

“I won’t hold it against you, Ms. Granger,” Minerva said, still remaining calm. “Well, this being the case, I do believe we are in need of a new Defence Professor.” Minerva rolled her eyes as Peta-Lorrum’s hand went up. “No, not you, Ms. Peta-Lorrum.” 

“Aw, but I’d be so good at it!” Peta-Lorrum whined. “I’ve already beaten the last two! How many more of them do I need to defeat before I can have the job?” 

Minerva glared at her. 

“Peta-Lorrum, now–” 

“Sorry, Professor.” 

Saying that Minerva was shocked was an understatement; She was almost without words. Peta-Lorrum had just _apologized_ for something. What was going on? 

“Apology accepted, Ms. Peta-Lorrum,” Minerva said. “For right now, I’m more concerned about you finishing your story.” 

“Okay!” she exclaimed, beaming. “Anyway, he tied me up and tried to wipe my memory, but _mind blank_ stopped him in his tracks.” She grinned. “The look on his face when he realized that it didn’t work was _priceless_! And then when I climbed out of the ropes without a problem! Ha!” 

“Ms. Peta-Lorrum, we have already dealt with a basilisk today. My patience is growing thin.” 

“Right.” She held up the book in her hand. “Ginny, Sally-Anne, Hermione, this look familiar to any of you?” 

“Is that–?” Granger asked. “It can’t be!” 

“It looks just like mine!” Ms. Weasley exclaimed. 

“It _is_ yours,” sh said. “I traced its chain of owners back a few steps. From what I can gather, Draco dropped it in your cauldron when he and Goldilocks bothered us that day over the summer. I had already sort of worked that part out, but I didn’t understand why at the time. Now I do. As part of one of their pranks, Fred and George grabbed it and brought it to where they knew a castle alteration was about to occur. They know the castle pretty well, so that wasn’t a challenge for them. _Then_ they found Luna, and passed it off to her.” 

“ _That’s_ why that wall was there!” Granger exclaimed. 

“Is there a purpose to this?” Minerva asked. 

“I’m getting to it,” Peta-Lorrum replied. “I promise this is important. The Twins tried to retrieve it later, but couldn’t get it back from Luna. They would’ve tried to take it from _her_ , but they knew I would find out almost immediately, and we’ve been under a truce this year.” 

“Why?” the Weasley Girl asked. 

“Because otherwise we’re going to destroy the castle or ourselves,” Peta-Lorrum replied simply, evidently more content with the answer than Minerva thought she should’ve been. “Anyway, as Luna is Under My Protection, they couldn’t interfere, so they created a copy of the book to return to their sister so she wouldn’t find out that it was them that took it.” 

“And how exactly is this important, Ms. Peta-Lorrum?” 

“It’s important because _this_ is the Heir of Slytherin,” she said, holding up the destroyed book. “Or at least, it _was_ the Heir of Slytherin.” 

“How is _that_ the Heir of Slytherin?” Mr. Weasley asked. 

“It took over Luna’s mind,” Peta-Lorrum said. “I think there was a spirit trapped in it. The spirit of one Thomas Marvolo Riddle.” 

Minerva’s eyes grew wide. Even if the children didn’t know that name, _she_ did. 

“Who?” the Weasleys asked. 

“Why does that name ring a bell?” Perks muttered. 

“Voldie,” Peta-Lorrum replied. “A copy of Voldemort was– Would you all quit it? It’s just a name!” Seeing that the purebloods had relaxed, Rose continued her story. “–was trapped inside this book. Or stored inside it, more likely. It convinced Luna that she was talking to the spirit of her mother in order to manipulate her into doing his bidding. Towards the end, she probably didn’t even have control over herself.” She glared right at Minerva. “Understand?” 

“Peta-Lorrum, remember your place,” Minerva said. “I understand your point. Ms. Lovegood will not be punished. After she was unable to awaken from the state she was in earlier, I had no doubt that she was not behind the attacks. Are you _sure_ that Riddle is gone?” 

“Positive,” Rose replied, glad that her friend wouldn’t be punished for something that wasn’t her fault. “Echoing cry of ‘No!’ and all.” She grinned. “That was _classic_. Blew a hole straight through it.” 

“If that’s all you had to do, then why did it take you so long?” Hermione asked. 

“It took me a while to figure out the book was important,” Rose said. “Well, rather that he was still _attached_ to the book. Until then, I was just wailing on him a bunch.” 

Rose looked at the dead basilisk on the floor. “So what have you lot been up to?” 

“We blew up the Basilisk!” Ginny exclaimed. “It was brilliant!” 

Rose grinned. “ _Dreda drisi gil_.” 

“What’s that mean?” Hermione asked. 

“Literally translates as ‘Maidens love fire’,” Rose replied. 

“Alright, that makes sense.” 

As each of her friends filled her in on the events of the past hour, Rose continued to grin with pride. Each of her friends had played a part in the defeat of the Basilisk, and for the most part, without her help. Rose didn’t know if she’d always be on the Rowling Plane, but she knew that whatever happened, her friends would be able to manage without her. 

“Why didn’t you respond to my messages?” Hermione asked when they were finished. 

“I didn’t have the chance,” Rose lied. “You were alright, though. Right?” 

“I guess,” Hermione said. “Next time, can’t you at least say _something_ to let me know you’re alright?” 

“I will,” Rose said, wondering how Sally had managed to block her telepathic network. Was the Chamber of Secrets warded? How was it being warded? 

“Before we get too far ahead of ourselves,” Professor McGonagall said. “We’ll need to send word to the Ministry requesting the reinstatement of Professor Dumbledore. If we act quickly, we would still be able to get him restored without any issues.” 

Rose looked at her, then at the Basilisk. “I’ve got an idea!” 

* * *

Cornelius Fudge was filling out paperwork to have Hogwarts evacuated. It was finally going as planned. If he could just get Dumbledore out of that school permanently, he’d never have to worry about that stupid old man again. 

Dumbledore had always been a threat to his power. The man denied it, but that was to be expected. People didn’t admit when they were trying to take your job, they just did it. It was a good thing that there were people like Lucius Malfoy around him that he could trust. 

Everything was finally going his way. 

THUD! 

Cornelius looked up to see a large snake’s head on his desk. Its eyes had been gouged out, and it was severely burned, but it was certainly a snake’s head. 

“Fixed it!” a familiar girl with dark red hair exclaimed. “May we please have Professor Dumbledore back now?” 

Cornelius stared in slack-jawed disbelief at the head on his desk. His eyes slowly moved his head to stare at the girl that was holding one end of what he could only assume was the Basilisk’s head and saw that she was covered in blood. 

“Would you like me to repeat the question?” the girl asked, an innocent smile on her face. 

“How did you get in here, little girl?” he asked. 

“It’s Rose or Ms. Peta-Lorrum,” she replied. “And I used _teleport_!” 

“Well… Ms. Peta-Lorrum, you see, it’s not so easy to restore Dumbledore to his position,” Cornelius replied, sliding his finger over a rune hidden under his desk. 

The rune was connected to a twin in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, where Amelia Bones would see it. Once she did, she would come running to his aide and remove this girl from the premises. 

Had the Minister of Magic been more perceptive, he would’ve noticed the girl’s eyes dart to where his finger was. 

“Of course it is!” she exclaimed. “You just need to fill out paperwork, right?” 

“It’s more complicated than that,” Cornelius said, confident in his ability to stall for time. 

“Explain it, then,” the girl said happily. 

“You see, first I’d have to fill out the requisition forms to have him reinstated,” Cornelius began. “Then the Wizengamot and Hogwarts Board of Directors need to approve it, and the former is not currently in session.” 

“Then call them,” the girl replied. “You lot have got your means of communications. Portraits, usually.” 

“For something such as this, we’d use the post,” Cornelius said patiently. He had the time to kill, and Bones was sure to be barging through his door any second. “It’s slower, but more reliable.” 

“You lot need _farspeaking amulets_ ,” the girl said. “Or _sending stones_ at least.” 

Cornelius had no idea what those were, but to his relief, he no longer needed to concern himself with the little girl. His office doors swung open to reveal Amelia Bones, head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and one of the scariest people Cornelius had ever met. 

“What’s the problem?!” she barked, three Aurors trailing behind her. 

Amelia instantly took in the situation in front of her. Behind his desk was the Minister of Magic, and on top of it was… a basilisk’s head. What was that doing there? More importantly, who was the little girl covered in blood? 

In the time Amelia was thinking of all of this, she had drawn her wand and shot a stunner at the little girl. One of the many rules by which Amelia lived was “You can never be too careful.” 

Unfortunately for Amelia, the girl winked out of existence just as her spell would’ve struck her, striking the wall behind her instead. 

Being the survivor (pronounced “coward”) he was, Cornelius hid under his desk to avoid being hit by a stray spell. 

The girl whirled around to face Amelia, then threw her arms up. Amelia took in the girl’s clothing, apart from the cloak she was wearing, and saw a Hogwarts crest attached to the girl’s belt. 

“I’m not here to fight. I’m just here for Professor Dumbledore.” 

“You’ll understand if I don’t believe you,” Amelia replied, keeping her wand leveled at the little girl. 

“I do,” the girl said. “I wouldn’t believe me either.” She slowly put her arms down. “Please stop pointing your wand at me.” 

“Why?” 

“Because she’s honestly not here to harm you,” came a wise voice from behind her. 

“Dumbledore?!” Cornelius exclaimed, sticking his head out from behind his desk. “What are _you_ doing here?” 

“Well, I was just taking a stroll, and noticed Madame Bones running somewhere in quite a hurry, so I thought I’d go see what the trouble was.” He wedged his way into the room, putting himself right between Bones and the little girl. “Hello, Rose.” 

“Salutations!” Rose exclaimed. 

“I see you’ve handled the Basilisk,” he said. 

“Nope!” she exclaimed. “Professor McGonagall and my friends did!” 

“Well, _that’s_ certainly a change of pace,” Albus said. “I look forward to hearing about it.” He turned to the Minister of Magic. “I believe you can come out now, Cornelius. Nothing to worry about.” 

“Albus, _what_ is going on here?!” Cornelius demanded. 

“I’m quite interested myself,” Amelia added, putting her wand back where she hid it. She knew full well that there was no point in keeping her wand trained on the girl. By the time she _thought_ about firing another spell at her, Dumbledore would have seen to it that her wand was halfway across the room. 

“It seems that the Basilisk has been dealt with,” Albus said simply. “And the Heir of Slytherin?” 

Rose held up a black book with a gaping hole in the middle. “Dead.” 

Amelia turned to one of her Aurors. “Shacklebolt, you’re our Dumbledore expert. Does that make sense to you?” 

“I can’t say that it does,” replied Kingsley Shacklebolt. 

“I’m afraid I don’t understand, Rose,” Professor Dumbledore said. 

“This book contained the memory and/or soul of one Thomas Marvolo Riddle. He took over a student and used them to open the Chamber of Secrets. It was through this student that Tommy controlled the Basilisk.” 

_It can’t be_ , Albus thought. He had long suspected that Tom had done the unspeakable and splintered his own soul. Was _this_ one of the fragments? Rather, had it _been_ one of the fragments? 

“Dumbledore, did she just say–” 

“Voldemort,” Albus said. “I do believe she did, Madame Bones.” 

When addressing someone, Albus always attempted to use that person’s preferred alias. In the case of Amelia Bones, it was “Madame Bones” or “Ma’am”. 

“What is going on here?” said a new voice. 

Everyone turned to see the newcomer, although each of them recognized the voice of Lucius Malfoy. By his side was a house-elf with bruises and scars covering his body. 

<Ref, I need his thoughts. _Now_. >

<He recognizes the book,> Reflectesalon told her. <He’s wondering why you have it, and not the blonde girl that had it before. Now he’s wondering why there’s a snake head on the Minister’s desk.>

<Perfect,> Rose replied. “Salutations, Goldilocks! Just the person I wanted to see!” She held up the book. “I believe this is yours!” 

“Why do you think _that_?” he asked. “Dumbledore, you should control your students.” 

“ _You_ had Draco dump it in Ginny’s cauldron in Diagon Alley over the summer,” Rose explained. “While I was pestering you, Draco was harassing Ginny. He used a Sleight of Hand check to dump it in her cauldron without anyone noticing.” 

“That’s preposterous.” 

“You’re 38, right?” she asked. 

“I beg your pardon?” 

“I traced the owners of this book back quite a ways after my friend showed it to me a few months ago,” the girl replied. “Before me was the student that was being controlled by Tommy. Before that were the Twins, and before that was Ginny. Before her was a Human boy my age, who gained the book when his father gave it to him, and lost it when he dropped it in Ginny’s cauldron. Before _him_ was his father, who is Human, male, 38 years old, lawful evil, and relinquished it to his son.” 

Lucius calmly turned to Dumbledore. “Dumbledore, what have you been teaching your students?” 

“To tell the truth,” Albus replied calmly. “Rose, is that the truth?” 

“So far as I know. Unfortunately, my gloves can’t give me names, so I can’t be certain of anything except that Dobby recognized the book as yours.” 

Rose wouldn’t have noticed it if she hadn’t been looking for it. It was the same twitch that Riddle had exhibited in the Chamber of Secrets. It was subtle, but it was there. Lucius had twitched ever so slightly, and it gave away his entire hand. 

Unfortunately, Rose was sure no one else had noticed. 

“Dobby couldn’t have told you that,” Lucius said. “He’s not allowed to speak at the moment.” 

“One: That’s mean. Two: He doesn’t have to. Three: You should really ask yourself ‘How does that girl know his name?’ Four: Do you want your book back or not?” 

“I already told you that book isn’t mine.” 

“Okay,” Rose replied, letting her hand drop at her side. 

“Why don’t we all get going?” Albus suggested, once again impressed by the girl’s resourcefulness, but by neither her manners nor people skills. “Cornelius, farewell. Madame Bones, always a pleasure. Lucius, I look forward to seeing you again.” 

Rose curtsied to the Minister of Magic, then to the head of the DMLE and Lucius Malfoy. Picking up the Basilisk’s head, she proceeded to follow the Headmaster out of the increasingly cramped office. 


	26. A Much-Needed Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which everyone takes a moment to calm down and relax.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** After completing the second year and informing you all that J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter, I will be taking a much-needed break.

Albus escorted Rose out of the Minister’s office. There was still much to do in regard to reinstating him as headmaster of Hogwarts, but with the Basilisk out of the way, there was no rush. Minerva was more than capable of handling everything on her own. 

“Was the Basilisk’s head really necessary?” Albus asked. 

“Severed heads are _always_ necessary!” Rose exclaimed, shoving the head inside a small black hole from her bracelet. 

“If you didn’t kill the Basilisk, why are you covered in blood?” Albus asked. 

“Presentation!” 

Rose waved her hand over her body, and the blood vanished. 

“Well, it seems your plan worked.” 

Rose beamed, ever cheerful regardless of the circumstances. 

“Would you mind telling me what happened?” 

Rose gave an account of the events that transpired after Albus left with Cornelius a few hours ago. 

“I must say, I’m impressed by your friends’ ingenuity,” Albus said when she finished. “Covering the Basilisk with honey, using a magic tag to find it, and blocking the sight of the user is inspired.” 

“You forgot setting it on fire!” Rose exclaimed gleefully. 

“How could I have forgotten?” 

“It was the best part!” 

Albus smiled. As frustrating as the girl was, she always managed to stay happy. That was an admirable trait in anyone, especially someone separated from her loved ones. 

“Rose, while I’ve got your attention, there’s something I’d like to talk to you about.” 

“What is it?” 

“Third-years are allowed to visit Hogsmeade, but only with permission from their parents or guardians.” 

“Why?” 

“Well, Hogsmeade is mostly unsupervised,” Professor Dumbledore explained. “It gives students freedoms that they may not otherwise enjoy, and some parents don’t feel comfortable granting those privileges to their children at such an early and volatile age.” 

“Yeah,” Rose said. “Being a teenager was _awful_. You’re always either angry or sad, and start caring a lot more about what other people think.” 

“I often forget you’re older than you look,” Professor Dumbledore replied. “Have you any idea how old you are?” 

“Not really,” Rose said. “Maybe… I was nine when… and ten years later… then that was another year…” 

After taking a few moments to figure it out, Rose gave up. 

<Ref, how old am I?>

<You are 21, although in a few weeks you will be 22.>

<Thanks!> Rose exclaimed. “Ref says I’m 21, but I’ll be 22 soon.” 

“I see,” Albus said. “Your birthday is in May?” 

“Not sure. Your months are weird.” 

“How so?” 

“In De’rok, a minute is 60 seconds, an hour is 60 minutes, a day is 24 hours, a week is six days, a month is five weeks, and a year is 12 months. But _here_ , your weeks are _seven_ days, your months vary, and your years are 12 months.” 

“So a year in your world is five days shorter than one in this one,” Albus said. “Although I do like how cleanly everything works out.” 

“Me too!” Rose exclaimed. “It makes handling lengthy spell durations easier. What if I can’t get permission from my guardians?” 

“If you can’t get a signed consent form, then you won’t be allowed to enter Hogsmeade with the rest of your friends.” 

“How is ‘guardians’ defined?” 

“Your guardians are your caretakers when you aren’t at school.” 

“That varies, but Hermione’s parents took care of me over the summer. I can ask Alice and make sure she’s okay with it.” 

“Can she sign the consent form?” 

Rose tilted her head. “Probably not.” 

“However, given that you have no official guardians, and are significantly older than you appear, I don’t see the harm in allowing you to attend Hogsmeade outings.” 

“Especially since I can just _dim door_ in there if I wanted.” 

“Quite,” her teacher replied. “If you wouldn’t mind, let’s keep that our little secret.” 

Rose smiled and pressed her finger to her lips. 

Albus found it interesting that so many expressions that he took for granted from both the Muggle and Magical worlds were absent in his foreigner. It served as a reminder that despite how similar their cultures were, they were still completely different. 

“I’ve got another question.” 

“Shoot.” 

“Well, that was an easy decision,” Albus replied, smiling. Seeing Rose grin, he continued. “Next question: Have you given thought to your electives?” 

“Creature Care, and something,” Rose replied. “I don’t know what else, yet. Neither does Harry, I think.” 

“We sorted it out,” Albus said. “I suggested Arithmancy. He got his father’s talent for Quidditch, so I thought maybe he’d have his mother’s talent for Arithmancy. What about you? You once expressed an interest in Arithmancy.” 

“Yeah,” Rose said. “I think I’d like to, but… well…” 

“It’s too magic intensive and you’re afraid Professor Vector will see through you?” 

“Something like that,” Rose replied. “She only likes me because Hermione likes me. If she knew I really wasn’t from around here, I don’t think she’d let Hermione near me.” 

“She’s quite concerned about Ms. Granger’s future. I hope you won’t take it personally.” 

“I don’t,” Rose said. “We get along though. We’ve got so much in common!” 

Albus smiled knowingly. “You both want the best for Ms. Granger.” 

Rose nodded. “Muggle Studies sounds boring, Divination sounds like a waste of time, and I’ll end up with a similar problem to Arithmancy if I try taking Ancient Runes.” Rose tilted her head. “Actually, thinking about it, Muggle technology sounded interesting. Hermione and I were looking up electricity over the summer.” 

Albus kept up with developments in the Muggle world with as much diligence as he did the Magical one. As such, he was no stranger to the advancements in Muggle technology made over the past few years. He was fascinated by their ingenuity. Muggles had a means of flying through the air, and had developed a weapon capable of wiping out an entire city in seconds. Naturally, it was the Americans that had first developed this. It wasn’t just their resources that allowed them to develop it first, but Americans always seemed to want to take the violent solution. 

If Rose discovered these inventions, there was no telling what she’d do with the knowledge. If there was anyone that would attempt to cross Muggle technology and magic, Albus had two candidates in mind: Hermione Granger and Rose Peta-Lorrum. If Hermione attempted it, the result would be something to benefit the entire world; if _Rose_ did it, there wouldn’t be a world _left_. 

The girl liked to tinker and experiment. It was a shame she couldn’t take Alchemy; Albus had initially considered allowing her to take it, but that would be three years early, _and_ it was a class that not many students took in the first place. Albus tried hard not to play favorites, although he knew that his treatment of Harry and his friends came off that way. He didn’t _mean_ to treat them differently, but they were all special. Regardless, he wasn’t going to play favorites with Rose if he could avoid it. 

How could the girl constructively create something in a way that _didn’t_ result in Hogwarts burning to the ground? 

“Ancient Runes isn’t particularly magic-intensive,” he said. “Why not give it a try?” 

“It’s Sally-Anne’s thing,” Rose replied. “Well, she doesn’t seem to mind, actually. She likes the Shield Rune, but she doesn’t take it as seriously as Hermione takes Arithmancy. Actually, Luna really seems to enjoy Runes.” 

“Why is that important to _your_ choice?” Albus asked. 

“I’m an Artificer, so I can fill any role in the party,” Rose explained. “I can probably do it better than the actual party members, but if I do, then the party begins to hate me. The best way to get a party to function well is for everyone to have something at which they excel.” She patted herself on the head. “That way, no one feels outshined by the other members.” 

“Why not simply enjoy the class, but not outshine the other students?” Albus asked. 

“I’m not sure I understand,” replied Rose. 

“You’re a clever young lady, but you don’t seek to draw attention to that. In fact, you strive for exactly the opposite. You don’t _want_ to be labeled as ‘clever’.” 

“Of course not. When you’re clever, everyone always turns to you and asks ‘What’s the plan?’ That’s what we do with Sk’lar back home, and Hermione here. Sometimes Ron. It’s a _lot_ of stress, needing a plan all the time.” 

“Yes, it is,” Albus agreed. “I think you’d enjoy it if you had the chance, and if you don’t show off, you’ll be fine.” 

Rose paused, then gave her clasp a dirty look. 

“Ref agreeing that you show off?” Albus asked. 

“Traitor,” she grumbled. 

“I’ve been headmaster at Hogwarts for a long time,” Albus said. “I’ve seen students of all sorts come in through the doors, and I’d like to think that I’ve bettered each one of them.” 

Rose tilted her head. 

“I don’t mean to oppose you,” Albus explained. “There’s no need to call Ref a traitor. We’re both on your side.” 

“I’ll– Mr. Malfoy!” 

Rose raced off to intercept the Malfoy patriarch. 

_What were we just saying?_ Albus thought. _Always having a plan?_

Albus watched Rose talk to Lucius. She handed him the book, which he immediately passed to his house-elf. 

“Making friends?” 

“Trying,” Rose replied. 

“May I ask why? I seem to recall the young Mr. Malfoy being rather harsh towards you and your friends.” 

“It was something Carolina said,” Rose replied. “Sometimes, the only way for someone to not be afraid is to show them there’s nothing to fear.” 

Albus nodded his approval of her words. 

“I hope to meet her someday,” Albus said. “She sounds like a wise young girl.” 

Rose smiled, allowing herself to become lost in a happy memory. 

“We should be going,” Albus said. “I wouldn’t want Professor McGonagall to be worried about you, even if she’ll never admit it.” 

* * *

<Perhaps you _should_ tell Professor Dumbledore about Sally, > Sk’lar pathed later that night. 

<They should evacuate the school and remove him, just to be safe,> Uncle Oz agreed. 

<Lay off my little sister!> Alice shouted in their heads. <She died today!>

<There might not be time,> Shadow argued. <Sally has eyes and ears all over the school, so an evac wouldn’t be possible. He’d find out, and who knows the kind of control he has.>

<Only Professor Dumbledore stays there over the summer, right?> Bowie asked. <Why not ask him during the summer?>

<No, Shadow’s right,> Sk’lar pathed. <We don’t know what he can do. If the Spektres can leave the school, then they can easily wreak havoc on the surrounding population.>

<But leaving him there _can’t_ be safe! > Carolina exclaimed. <Someone needs to do something about him.>

<Exactly,> Bowie pathed. <If he can attack people whenever he wants inside the school, then he should be dealt with.>

<A bunch of the kids killed a monster today,> Alice shot back. <It’s obvious at least _some_ of them can hold their own. >

<Alice, I don’t think it’s a good idea to encourage those children to fight,> Oz pathed. <That world isn’t like ours; their people don’t live under the threat of attack.>

<Doesn’t mean they can’t fight!>

<He’s threatening to go after the other students if I tell anyone about him,> Rose pathed. <If I had that much trouble with Cruentius, other people might too.>

<But you destroyed it,> Bowie pathed. 

<We don’t know that,> Oz replied. <Swarms only ever disperse. If Cruentius is truly a swarm, then it can be reformed by Sally. Rose, you should be on guard in case he comes after you again.>

<Home sweet home,> Rose pathed. 

<The fact of the matter is that Sally is dangerous,> Ozerl continued. <He has created a personal army of creatures that may not be able to be beaten by normal people in that world, and a creature that was able to take a beating before finally falling, as opposed to Voldemort’s army of Humans. If Sally can observe the entire castle as he pleases, there’s no telling what he can do. Rose, this isn’t a typical encounter in that plane. Unlike Lockhart and Quirrell, he uses abnormal magic, and may have the means of stopping you. He isn’t going to attempt the amateur move of using a death-effect on you or control your mind. Sally seems to understand that there are easier, non-magical ways of getting to people. Rose, _please_ be careful of him. You have never shown fear for Voldemort since arriving and learning of him, but Sally is different. >

<I know,> Rose replied. <He explained to me how the Spektres work. I thought it was arrogance at first, but he was trying to intimidate me by explaining that he could turn people into them. They… They extract peoples’ souls.>

<Figures,> Bowie pathed. <It’s as if they _know_ we can res people, so they have to up the stakes. Classic plot point. >

<For the last time, Bowie,> Carolina pathed. <We are _real_ people, not characters in a story. >

<Carolina, do you honestly believe that’s going to be the last time you tell me that?> Bowie asked. 

<No, but I hold onto hope,> Carolina replied sadly. 

<Sally’s been trying to communicate with me all year,> Rose pathed. <He wants something from me, but I don’t know what. He knows a lot more about me than I’d like him to, but I there’s nothing I can do about it now.>

<Rose, if there’s anyone that can handle this, it’s you,> Alice pathed. 

<Remember, the teachers are there to help you,> Sk’lar pathed. <Professor Dumbledore trusts you well enough, so you should consider telling him about Sally.>

<We just discussed this,> Shadow replied. <Rose tells _anyone_ about Sally, she puts _everyone_ in danger. Carolina, that’s bad, right? >

<Yes, Shadow, that’s very bad.>

<Exactly,> Shadow pathed. 

<Sally does pose a serious threat to the students, but for right now, the best way to mitigate that threat is through silence,> Oz pathed. 

<Why not go back down to the Chamber of Secrets, and deal with him yourself?> Alice asked. <Take the fight to him!>

<What if Cruentius is only _one_ of his minions? > Shadow asked. <What then?>

<Oh,> Alice pathed. <I hadn’t thought of that.>

<That’s why we’re one, big, happy family!> Carolina pathed. 

<I’ll stay on alert,> Rose pathed. <For now, I’m gonna get some rest. I’m exhausted.>

<You’ve had a long day,> Ozerl pathed. <You’ve earned it.>

Rose closed her eyes as the rest of her friends and family bid their farewells. 

* * *

While Rose was chatting with her friends, Albus was chatting with his. 

“Neville _Longbottom_?!” Severus exclaimed. 

“Threw the Sword of Gryffindor at the Basilisk, taking out its second eye,” Minerva confirmed. “I hardly believed it myself, but the evidence was there.” 

The house heads, along with Professors Vector and Babbling, were gathered in Albus’s office. Word had spread like wildfire after the students were released about the downfall of the Basilisk and the early retirement and criminal investigation of Gilderoy Lockhart. 

Reactions varied from person to person. Minerva was full of pride that her Gryffindors had successfully devised and executed a plan to kill the Basilisk. Just as proud were Septima and Bathsheda, although the former was far more smug about it than the latter. 

Pomona and Filius were happy that the students were alive, and Filius was impressed that the Weasley boy had successfully pulled of a summoning charm on his friend. 

Severus was glowering as always, and Albus was betraying no emotion, although he was clearly impressed by and happy with the turnout. 

“How did they acquire the Sword of Gryffindor?” Bathsheda asked. 

“Longbottom said he pulled it out of the Sorting Hat, which had found its way into Poppy’s office,” Minerva replied. “None of them knew how.” She turned to face Albus. “Albus?” 

“I believe Fawkes brought it to them,” he replied simply. “Fawkes was tasked with keeping an eye on them if I were to be removed.” 

“And naturally, you declined to inform any of us about this,” Minerva said, sighing. “Fair enough.” 

“Needless to say, it’s brilliant that they were able to handle it,” Pomona said. “Have their parents been informed that everything is alright?” 

“I’ve arranged for a meeting tomorrow with Arthur and Molly Weasley to talk about their children,” Minerva said. “Arthur has always been prompt about returning post, despite the Weasley owl being sluggish at best. I have requested a meeting with Xenophilius Lovegood to discuss his daughter. I have not told him why, nor have I heard from him as yet.” 

“What of the other students’ parents?” Albus asked. 

“Skipping past Peta-Lorrum and Potter,” she said. “As the closest thing Peta-Lorrum has to guardians are the Grangers, and the Dursleys are…” 

“Monsters?” Severus offered. 

“I often forget you know his aunt,” Minerva said. “Yes, that’s certainly a word for it. Returning to your question, Albus, I have sent word to Augusta Longbottom. Given the current state of Frank and Alice, I imagine she will be concerned about her grandson’s well-being. I have assured her that he is receiving the best care possible. Regarding Granger and Perks, the girls are vigilant about keeping in communication with their respective families. Perks’s parents seem willing to take everything in stride, while Granger’s are more protective. I believe I speak for all of us when I say I’d hate to lose any of those children to another school.” 

“It is still our responsibility to inform them of these events,” Albus said calmly. “Regardless of the consequences. As her parents, Mr. and Mrs. Granger have every right to remove the young Ms. Granger from Hogwarts, and have shown interest in doing so before.” 

“Why don’t we let Hermione talk to them?” Septima suggested. 

“How exactly would she do that?” Severus asked. “Through post?” 

“If I had to take a guess, I’d say Hermione will be distraught about how to explain all of this to her parents,” Septima began. “This was a big incident, and she was exactly where they wouldn’t want her to be, and Rose was not by her side, despite her promises. No offence, Minerva, but–” 

“One teacher doesn’t make an army,” Minerva said. “None taken, Septima.” 

“It would be best if they heard it from their daughter rather than one of us,” Septima said. “Hermione said that helped them during the troll incident last year.” 

“That’s common for Muggle-born families,” Minerva agreed. “At least families that don’t know Hogwarts well.” 

“Couldn’t Peta-Lorrum simply take them to her house?” Filius asked. “I don’t think there are limits on her ability to move people from place to place.” 

“I’ll suggest it to Hermione,” Septima said. “I also want to talk to her about publication options before too long.” 

“For now, it’s late,” Albus said. “I think we could all use some rest. It’s been a busy day. Everyone, well done. We handled the crisis as best we could, and no one was hurt.” 

“What about Lockhart?” Pomona asked. 

“No one _important_ was hurt,” Severus said, sneering. 

* * *

Ron was never comfortable being called to Professor McGonagall’s office. He didn’t know why, but he was confident that it had something to do with the Basilisk. Supporting his theory was the presence of his sister. Together, the siblings made their way through the now safe school. It was relaxing, not having to worry about the Basilisk suddenly jumping out and attacking them. Now the worst threat to their safety was the Twins. 

When they arrived, they found not only Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore, but their parents as well. 

“Oh no,” Ron muttered. 

“On the count of three, we run,” Ginny muttered, but it was too late. 

Before they could so much as contemplate running away and hiding, both of them were swept up in a hug by their mother. 

“Are you two alright?!” she exclaimed. “Are either of you hurt? Your professors just got through explaining everything to us.” 

“Mum, we’re fine,” gasped Ginny. 

“Can’t breathe,” Ron said. 

“I see a bright light,” Ginny added. 

Molly Weasley released her youngest two children. 

“I thought you’d be more cross,” Ron said. 

“Unbelievably so,” his mum replied. “ _You_ , Ronald Bilius Weasley, will be doing chores all summer.” 

“But–” 

“You were out past curfew, Ronald,” his dad said. “A decision that should’ve gotten you killed.” 

“You were lucky Professor Flitwick was there to save you,” his mum said. 

“But without Ron, _Professor McGonagall_ would be dead!” Ginny blurted out. 

Arthur and Molly turned to face their daughter, then to Minerva. 

“She’s right,” Minerva said. “Ronald drove the plan that ultimately slayed the Basilisk, and successfully performed a summoning charm to save Ms. Granger’s life. And Ginevra dealt the finishing blow to it.” 

Ginny contained a scowl. She _hated_ being called “Ginevra”. 

“I do believe that without these two, everyone would not have been so lucky,” Professor Dumbledore added. “I do hope someone will inform William and Charles. I believe they will both be quite eager to hear the story.” 

Ron smiled. After hearing over and over that he should be more like his brothers, for once, someone was talking about him like he were a real person, and not just a knockoff of Bill and Charlie. 

“Why don’t you two start from the beginning?” suggested their father. 

* * *

Dan and Emma Granger were enjoying a quiet, relaxing dinner. There had been no news from Hogwarts, so they were assuming that everything was fine. 

Until their daughter appeared in their kitchen. 

“Mum! Dad!” she shouted, and ran to hug both of them. 

Accompanying her was Rose, who looked less cheerful than normal. Actually, if Dan had to attach an emotion to her expression, it was guilt. 

_That can’t be good,_ he thought as he held his daughter. 

“What’s going on?” he asked. “Not that we aren’t happy to see you girls, but you’ve never visited us.” 

“The Basilisk’s dead,” Rose said. “It attacked the Hospital Wing, and–” 

“Was anyone hurt?” Emma asked the little girl, who shook her head. 

“Not badly. Harry and Neville sustained minor injuries, but magic being what it is, they were fine. They survived thanks to Hermione.” 

Dan looked to his daughter for an explanation, but instead, it was Rose that provided it. 

“Hermione enchanted Harry’s glasses and threw honey at it so they could see!” 

Emma and Dan turned to Hermione for a better explanation, who had let go of them. 

“We used a magic tag on the honey, which stuck to the Basilisk,” Hermione explained. “The glasses were enchanted so the wearer could see the tag, but covered with burnt bread dough of all things to stop the wearer from seeing anything else.” 

“Professor Dumbledore called it ‘inspired’,” Rose said, beaming. “But that’s not all she did. She made a spell that made the air more flammable so Ginny could blow it up!” 

Once again, the Grangers looked to their daughter for an explanation. 

“At a very high level, that’s actually correct,” Hermione said. “It was the only thing any of us could think to do against the Basilisk.” 

“What about you?” Dan asked Rose. “Weren’t you there with her?” 

Rose shook her head sadly, guilt returning to her face. “I was in the Chamber of Secrets dealing with the Heir of Slytherin. He was draining Luna’s life from her, and I didn’t know how much time she had. I had to make a choice: Depend on my friends and Professor McGonagall to hold their own against the Basilisk, or risk losing Little Moon.” 

“So you abandoned our daughter to save someone else?” Dan asked. 

“It wasn’t Rose’s fault, Dad,” Hermione said. “The professors were protecting the common rooms so it didn’t attack the other students, and Professor McGonagall was there with us. Honestly, of all the professors, Professor McGonagall would be my second pick for a defender. My first choice had apparently been removed by the Ministry.” 

Emma frowned at her daughter, not understanding her statement. 

“Professor Dumbledore was taken by the Ministry,” Rose explained. 

“What _possible_ reason did they have for that?” Emma asked. 

“Professor Dumbledore was deemed unfit to handle the school, and Lucius Malfoy is a parasite that feeds on fear.” 

Once again, Hermione’s parents looked to her for a translation. 

“Mr. Malfoy scared most of the board of directors into suspending Professor Dumbledore. I think if they _hadn’t_ done that, he would’ve been there with us in the Hospital Wing.” 

“Hold on,” Emma said. “Rose, who was with _you_?” 

“Professor Lockhart,” Rose replied. “Turns out he _is_ a fake, and has been stealing credit for stuff other people do. He makes sure they can’t out him by wiping their memories.” 

“And he was the only other person with _you_?” Dan asked. 

“It was fine,” Rose replied nonchalantly. “He wasn’t that tough, and _mind blank_ stopped him from erasing my memory and stealing credit for defeating the Heir.” She grinned. “Enough about _me_ ; your daughter’s gonna be a published author soon.” 

Dan and Emma once again found an explanation with their daughter. 

“Sort of,” Hermione said. “Someone from the _Daily Prophet_ is coming in to talk to us about how we stopped the Basilisk. That gave Professor Vector the idea to contact an Arithmancy journal, and next thing I know, we’re working on a paper about methods of killing Basilisks.” 

“That’s amazing!” Emma exclaimed. 

“Congratulations!” Dan added. 

“The oxygen was Harry’s idea, the tag was Ron’s, and–” 

“But _she_ crafted the spell that killed it!” Rose exclaimed, beaming with as much pride as both Dan and Emma felt. 

“Why don’t we get the entire story?” Emma suggested. “If you girls would like, there’s plenty of food here for both of you.” 

“I’d love some,” Hermione said. 

“I’ll pass, but thank you anyway,” Rose said. 

“But we still insist that you stay, Rose,” Dan said. 

He was still cross about the crimson-haired not keeping her word that she would protect Hermione, but he was keeping good spirits by reminding himself that everything had worked out. In the end, it wasn’t actually her fault. Both girls explained that they had had no idea what was happening to Luna, but in order to save her, Rose had to be in the Chamber of Secrets. Dan understood, even if he didn’t like it, and he agreed that Professor McGonagall did the best job she could of keeping them safe. 

“What prompted you girls to come visit us instead of writing a letter?” Emma asked her unexpected guests. 

“Hermione couldn’t figure out what to write,” Rose replied. “But Professor Vector and I thought it was a great idea to come here!” 

“We’re always happy to have you girls over,” Dan said. “Perhaps a tad more warning next time, please.” 

“I will do my best, but Rose doesn’t give _me_ much warning when she does things like that,” Hermione replied. 

“Speaking of little warning, Rose, are you going to be staying with us again this summer?” Emma asked. 

“If it’s not too much of an intrusion,” Rose replied, patting herself on the head. Her face lit up with all the light of the sun. “Especially if you’re going camping again!” 

“Every summer,” Dan said, smiling at the girl’s excitement. “You’re welcome to come along, just so long as you let us move at our own pace this time.” 

“Although, _prestidigitation_ was helpful,” Emma said. 

“I know, right?!” exclaimed Rose. “You mortals and your water.” 

“Did she just call us ‘mortals’?” Dan asked Hermione. 

“Probably,” Hermione replied. 

* * *

Compared to the Basilisk, exams were no trouble at all. The children were celebrities at school; everyone wanted to know about the Basilisk and how they had killed it. 

While her friends had the other students distracted, Rose took the opportunity to comfort Luna, who was still upset by the whole ordeal. 

No one at the Ravenclaw table picked on Luna anymore, especially not with Rose there. Despite Rose’s efforts, word had spread (mostly due to Peeves) that Luna had been the one behind the attacks. After things had started to get out of hand, Rose made an announcement in Ravenclaw Tower explaining in great detail how she would handle anyone caught harassing her new little sister. Most of Ravenclaw had agreed that they were in the wrong and should be ashamed of themselves for ever doubting that Luna was a kind, sweet little girl after Rose used the word “disembowel”. In fact, everyone was quite friendly towards the two after that. 

Ron and Harry enjoyed the quiet now and then when the girls had their audience distracted, and Harry loved being normal for a few moments. Even Neville began to enjoy the lack of attention when he got it, although word had spread that he lobbed a sword at the Basilisk and got a “snake’s eye” (A pun that Ginny had devised and only Rose found funny). His gran had been ecstatic when she found out, and he knew his mum and dad would be too. 

All in all, it was a relaxing end to a hectic year. It was a much-needed break. 

Before long, they were all back on the Hogwarts Express. Rose still refused to leave Luna’s side, so the ghostly girl sat beside her crimson-haired friend. Across from them sat Hermione and Neville, as Ginny insisted that she would not be left alone with three boys, especially when one of them was Ron. 

“I can’t believe it’s finally over,” Hermione said. 

“I hope next year’s more relaxing than this one,” Neville added. 

“How could it _possibly_ not be?” Hermione asked. 

* * *

**Meanwhile, at Azkaban**

Sirius Black reached the outskirts of the prison. He looked back and saw the guards flying towards him, then started to run. He ran as fast as he could, for he knew that for the first time in over ten years, salvation finally lay within his grasp. 

He just had to make it to Hogwarts. 

* * *

“Thanks for jinxing it, Hermione,” Rose said. 

“I’m sure we’ll be fine,” Luna said, her head resting on Rose’s shoulder. 

After a few minutes, the train rolled into the station. They all filed out, not needing to worry about luggage thanks to Rose. 

They had just gotten out of the barrier when they were flooded by their parents. 

“We’re so glad to see you!” Emma Granger said, hugging her daughter tightly. 

“Me too, Mum,” Hermione said. 

“And you,” Dan said, turning to the red-headed boy with his daughter. 

“Me?” Ron asked weakly. 

Dan took the boy’s hand in his and shook it firmly. “Thank you. You saved my daughter’s life. I owe you.” 

“Just… I mean…” Ron couldn’t find the words, so instead he silently shook Mr. Granger’s hand. “You’re welcome.” 

Dan turned to Molly and Arthur Weasley, who were counting heads to confirm they had all their children. “Molly, Arthur, I can’t speak for all of your children, but Ron and Ginny are great kids.” 

“Thank you, Dan,” Arthur said, shaking the other father’s hand. “My son Bill, a professional curse-breaker for Gringotts, wanted me to pass along his regards to Hermione. He said a lot of his colleagues’ jobs just got a whole lot easier thanks to her.” 

Dan looked down at his daughter with pride. He had never been comfortable sending Hermione to Hogwarts, but if there was one thing to be said, it was that she was making him more proud than he could’ve imagined he’d be. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are at the end of book two. I'm amazed I've stuck with this for so long, but I've got five more books planned out to varying degrees.
> 
> Stay tuned for book three: _Luna Lovegood and the Maniac in Maroon_.


End file.
